Starting Over
by Goldendreams257
Summary: Movieverse: Sometimes it is best not to mess around with destiny. The jarring transition from death to life has Jazz enduring an internal conflict in which he guiltily yearns for what he was taken from. Has an OC but no pairings. Rated T for language.
1. Prologue

**_Author's Note: Yes, this story has Jazz coming back from the dead. Those of you who are fed up with so many fanfics resurrecting Jazz may say"Get over it, he was killed off. Why are you bringing him back?" To that I say, because I felt like it. The idea of someone having to deal with the emotions of being brought back to life was just too hard to resist writing about. So if anyone is tired of Jazz being brought back and can't get over that enough to read this, please don't read this story. Also, going along with a pretty bizarre theme that I have with my stories, there will be horses and there will be a Doberman. (My aunt's Doberman, who I based Kobe off of in 'Keeping Faith', is now a proud dad and I saw the puppies when they were only four weeks old. So of course the adorable little monsters weaseled into my imagination and my writing)._**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of Gloria Gaynor's catchy music..

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Prologue

It was a slight tugging at first. Like a notification at the back of his processor begging to be recognized but which he adamantly ignored. Then that annoying little notification became more adamant than he and soon it consumed him. Slowly the tugging sensation shifted and it began developing somewhere in the very core of his spark until it spread outward. The sensation was causing every molecule of his body to become disoriented. He lost all concepts of reasoning and logic and all his memories became hazy until they just slipped away from his grasp.

The only thing he had were words flitting through his audios; different voices begging him to come back in different ways. An exhausted voice that held an extreme sadness that somehow did not overwhelm the determination, a quiet voice that sounded too young to be so seasoned, a gruff voice that was failing in trying to hide the pleading emotions, and finally the weary yet still strong voice which he held in the highest regard. Then there was nothing.

* * *

The first thing he realized was that everything seemed granulated and then he noticed the blaring lights that were soon partially blocked by a silhouette. Two blue optics stared down at him, studying him critically. Then the silhouette slid out of view to allow the lights to glare down at him with all of their strength. Words were flitting into his activating audios and even though he recognized the speaker, the words were still too faint for him to register their meaning.

Suddenly his body seized as memories crashed into him. He could hear his structure snapping and being torn apart and the immense pain that went along with it. The sinister voice sneering and mocking at his pain. He activated his battle mask and his arm swiftly formed into his weapon.

"Easy there, Jazz. You're okay now." The voice was reassuring and stern even though it was coming from the other end of his gun. A hand gently pushed the shielded machine gun to the side as if it was nothing but a hand. The reassuring voice continued speaking as Jazz reassembled his clawed hand. Ratchet's form became less granulated and the stern face peered down at Jazz.

"You're back with us now." There was a great amount of pride in Ratchet's voice despite the obvious exhaustion.

"H-ho-how?" Jazz stammered. After a long period of being unused, his vocal processor was not quite producing his voice as it normally would.

"After your sacrifice Sam was able to merge the Allspark into Megatron's chest, overloading Megatron's energy levels. The Allspark was ultimately destroyed save for a shard. The shard re-energized your Spark as soon as I finished repairing your shell."

Too tired to respond, Jazz merely gave an affirmative warble before allowing himself to lay back down on the berth. Ratchet explained that he would be putting Jazz into stasis to allow his systems to become fully acclimated to being on-line again. With just a few minor fixes, it was just a matter of Jazz and his body becoming used to being alive again.

* * *

When Jazz was brought out of stasis, Ratchet wasn't alone in his medbay. The CMO was puttering around seemingly for the sake of trying to keep himself busy. After spending so much time obsessing with the resurrection of the lieutenant it was something of a shock to suddenly have nothing at all to do. Watching Ratchet's almost compulsive obsession with the order of things in his makeshift medical bay, Optimus stood to the side with his optics trained on Jazz. When Optimus saw that Jazz recognized being watched the great commander came forward.

"There is no way to express my happiness that one of my greatest soldiers and officers is back with us," Optimus said. Jazz propped himself up on his elbows before sitting fully upright. The movement was slow and tedious but thankfully Ratchet had done his job well; there was virtually no pain.

"I'm glad to be back with you, Optimus," Jazz replied, successfully hiding the hesitancy in saying that. Optimus nodded his head, his facial plates not showing the depth of the concern he felt for his first lieutenant.

"How are you doing?"

"Fair enough considering the last thing I remember is being torn in half." The response was strangely lacking any emotion. It was hard to tell if the mech was being sardonic or humorous. Optimus watched Jazz before briefly glancing at the still puttering Ratchet. When he looked back at the silver mech he had a small smile, a form of expression he had picked up since arriving to Earth.

**There are those who are most eager to see you,** Optimus sent over a private communication link. Jazz cocked his head slightly and glanced over at Ratchet's back.

**I'm for it but I think Ol' Hatchet would fritz out. You of all mechs know how he is with his victims.** Optimus couldn't help but let his smile grow at Jazz's last choice of words. The resurrected mech was starting to act like his old self.

**You seem to be forgetting who the commanding officer is here.**

**I wouldn't tell Ratchet that, with the way I've seen him order you around.**

At this point the CMO recognized the suspicious silence and faced his patient and commander. He knew that something was being said between them and he had known them for far too long to not have a hint as to what it was.

"For the time being Jazz is restricted to my medbay with _soft _music and _no_ visitors," Ratchet growled. Optimus looked from Jazz to Ratchet.

"Now I know I'm not the medical officer here, but I would think it would be best for a short visit with those who want to see him." Ratchet full on glowered up at Optimus, aggravated beyond all belief that he was being ordered around in his medbay, even if it was a temporary one.

"Well, considering that Jazz is _my_ patient and not _yours_ I am positive that it would be best for his state of being to reside here with_out_ any visitors which does include _you_, Optimus."

"What of your _other_ charges Ratchet? What of their mental and psychological state of beings? You know very well that they are overwhelmed with concern for Jazz. It wouldn't be very good for them to allow such a large amount of concern to damage them. Especially the humans. It is in fact true that they can worry themselves to ill health." Optimus looked rather smug as Ratchet was a degree from overheating. He glared at his superior but, try as he might, he was unable to come up with a comeback save one.

"_Fine_. If he overloads then _you're _the one who gets to repair him."

Jazz watched all of this with a bemused expression, leaning back on the berth on his splayed out claws. It never grew old watching Optimus, and especially Ironhide, butt heads with Ratchet. Of course it was more fun when it was Ironhide because Ratchet knew just what to say to get at the cantankerous weapon's specialist and vice versa. Some things just never changed after being dead for who knows how long. Speaking of which…

"How long was I out for?"

"Exactly one mega-cycle. As always your timing is perfect," Ratchet stated bitterly, more from the fact of being outwitted by Optimus than anything else. Part of Jazz wanted to ask more questions like if they were going to be staying on Earth (assuming that his navigation wasn't malfunctioning and they were still on Earth) and more importantly if they had received words from any fellow Autobots. However the tired, careless part of him just wanted to shoo everyone away so he could back to stasis and realize he hadn't been resurrected.

Slightly surprised by the latter notion, Jazz compromised with himself and decided that he would ask questions after his comrades had come and gone and he had himself a long recharge.

The first out of the visitors in the room was unsurprisingly Bumblebee. The mech poked his grey and yellow head around the medbay's door threshold, his bright blue optics eager. He didn't bother using his by then healed vocal processor because, frankly, he was too excited to see Jazz functioning. The scout took a bounding step into the room before checking himself, looking over at Ratchet with a clearly frightened expression. Ratchet scowled and busied himself without answering Bumblebee's unspoken question. So the young Autobot focused his attention on Optimus, his door wings upright and rigid.

"Permission to enter, sir?"

"Permission granted." With the formalities out of the way Bumblebee practically bounded over to Jazz, chattering away. The lieutenant was amazed that against all odds Bee's vocals were functioning again. But then again miracles do happen. He himself was living proof of that.

While Bee went on to explain all of the happenings that had gone on while Jazz was "gone", as Bee put it, two much smaller figures snuck into the room. They took their places well out of the way while watching the mechs with rapt attention. The pair remained ignored even as Ironhide unceremoniously came into the room, not bothering to get permission from the irked CMO.

The seasoned warrior gently shoved past Bee so that he stood directly in front of Jazz who was still sitting like a good little patient on the berth. Ironhide placed a great hand on what served as Jazz's shoulder, leveling his head so that he looked at him square in the optic.

"If you _ever_ do something as stupid as face Megatron again on your own without me, your aft is _mine_. Got it?"

"What, mad you missed out on all the fun?" Jazz responded sweetly despite the death grip Ironhide had on his armor. A low growl came from deep inside the bulky black mech before he pulled huffily away.

"Isn't fair that you got some shots in on that glitch and not me, is all." Jazz just let out a rumbling laugh as Ironhide stepped aside, his threat/concern successfully delivered.

It was then that the silent visitors were noticed by Ratchet when they happened to be in the way of his puttering. He used his foot to gently slide them out of his way and toward Jazz.

"Better say something now before I lock all of you out for the next vorn." Taking this as his cue, Bumblebee went over and scooped his two close friends up despite their embarrassed protests.

Sam and Mikaela practically fell over themselves even though Bee deposited them gently on the berth beside Jazz. The two teenagers had had months to get to know and befriend the surviving Autobots, something that they didn't have with Jazz. It was like two little kids at a family reunion, being introduced to their legendary older cousin who they somewhat knew yet were too awed to overcome their shyness. Jazz immediately caught on to their nerves.

"Hey little bitches!" he practically crowed. He eased off of the berth and bent slightly over so he was better able to be on level with the teenagers. "What's crackin'?" This seemed to ease the tension and it showed by the nervous smiles on Sam and Mikaela's faces.

"Nothin' much homie 'cept with you goin' Tupac on us and then gettin' brought back." Mikaela looked over at Sam, who had a very self pleased expression, with incredulously narrowed eyes.

"You watch way too much MTV," she stated. Sam just shrugged his shoulders and hitched a thumb in Bee's direction.

"He's the one who messed with my cable." Bumblebee in turn lifted his grey hands and shrugged his shoulders, baby blue eyes feigning innocence. Rolling her eyes Mikaela turned back to Jazz.

"We're really glad you're back," she said sincerely. Jazz gave an honest smile.

"Glad to be back," he said. Then he turned to Sam who was having a silent argument that involved a lot of pointing, hand movement, and mouthed accusations with Bee about who was to blame about the cable mix up. Sam did a double-take with widened brown eyes and took a hesitant step back from the sudden close proximity of Jazz's face.

"And you, Sam Witwicky. I don't think I can ever show my thanks for having killed Megatron. If it wasn't for you my sacrifice would have been in vain." Sam nodded his head, unable to think of something adequate to respond with. He had never heard Jazz speak in such a serious tone before. Not that he had heard him say anything besides their first meeting in the alley.

Ratchet had finally had enough of the reunion in his medbay. He forcibly shoved his comrades out and gently, yet still managing to be adamant, lifted the humans from the berth before shooing them out the door. After the doors were closed and Ratchet visibly relaxed, Jazz swung back up onto the berth. Jazz couldn't help but to laugh at Ratchet's reaction as Gloria Gaynor's voice echoed along the metal hallway outside, singing over and over choice lyrics from her famous song.

_So you're back, from outer space_

_I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face_

Sure, the lyrics weren't exactly what Bee wanted to portray but they got the point across.

* * *

Jazz leaned against the hanger door, staring out over the desert landscape made bleak by the angry clouds brewing overhead. There weren't any signs of life for miles around except for the wildlife and handful of military guards that were patrolling the base's perimeter a mile off. The American government had found a place for the Autobots to inhabit and it would remain suitable until more of the Cybertronians arrived. Until then, however, the government was figuring out a more permanent place for them to reside. For the time being, the Autobots were content with their residence and had gone about making it more to their liking.

Sam and Mikaela's families moved into the town closest to the base when they were forced to reveal why the Witwicky family was abducted by the government and then why the two teenagers had gone AWOL for three days. It took Judy Witwicky a good faint before realizing that the Autobots wouldn't harm them and forced her husband to be understanding. Soon after he discovered that the Autobots could transform into high performance vehicles and on top of that make things explode, he gradually got along with them. No matter how long a man had grown from being a boy, they could never resist fast cars and explosions; their inner-child just simply wouldn't allow it. With Mrs. Witwicky it was just the matter that she knew that she had four soldiers looking after her son, hopefully limiting the amount of trouble he got himself into. Mikaela's grandmother, however, was still understandably nervous. She avoided the Autobots altogether except for the courteous wave whenever they came to pick up her granddaughter. The only other member of the Banes family who would know about the Autobots was her father and he wouldn't be introduced until he was out of jail and settled back home.

Jazz was happy that his comrades were getting along in their new home. It showed that perhaps there was hope for his kind. What worried him though was whether there was still hope for him. It was unheard of to bring a spark back from the dead and he still felt like he should be in the Matrix. But then that would mean abandoning his brothers-in-arms and that was something Jazz's loyal nature was extremely unsettled with. He would have given anything to abandon the war, but not his brothers.

Unbeknownst to Jazz, Optimus had seen the indecisiveness in his first lieutenant. As Jazz stared out over the bleak desert landscape, the commander decided to speak to him. He came up quietly from behind and stood beside his old and dear friend. Jazz knew Optimus was there but didn't acknowledge his presence for there was no need.

"What's bothering you?" Jazz thought long and hard but wasn't able to come up with an answer that Optimus deserved.

"I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right."

"Could it be Earth?"

"Naw. This is a pretty chill place and the humans are…well, unique I guess would be the best way to put it. 'specially Sam and Mikaela."

"It's easy to see why Bumblebee is so fond of them."

"You're all fond of them. Even me considering I barely know them."

"Are you sure you don't know what's bothering you?" Optimus asked, making sure they didn't get off topic.

"Trust me Optimus, if I knew you'd be the first to know." Optimus looked out into the desert, trying to see what Jazz was seeing or looking for. It was that which gave him an idea.

"Perhaps it would be best for you explore this planet a bit. Catch up on what the others and I have experienced." Jazz barely tilted his head upward to be able to see Optimus in his peripheral. "There are some cities in this country that I know would interest you. Maybe you'll find some solace there. Or at least occupy yourself until you sort things out."

Jazz nodded his head once, considering what Optimus had to say. The idea of hitting the paved roads and exploring the country, and more interestingly its culture, was extremely enticing. Jazz immediately knew that it was the right move to make. If it had been best for him to stay then the idea of traveling around alone wouldn't sound so appealing.

At once Optimus knew Jazz's answer and gave a curt nod before turning away.

"Just keep in touch every once in a while. Come back when you're ready."

"If the Decepticons show up, contact me," Jazz said as he turned around to see Optimus retreating down a hallway in the base.

"Will do."

* * *

The other three Autobots were confused about why Jazz was leaving almost right after he was brought back. It seemed though that Optimus explained it to them or that they were able to empathize with Jazz and didn't need any explanations. Bumblebee by far was the most put out but Jazz reminded him that Sam and Mikaela were there. With that, Jazz had knelt down and asked the humans to keep an eye on the young scout. Both humans readily agreed, albeit somewhat somberly, and wished him luck.

As Jazz drove away from the base he felt a mixture of emotions. There was resentment with himself for leaving them when there were so few of their kind on Earth as it was, eagerness to get away, apprehension about leaving them when the Decepticon threat was not entirely eradicated with Barricade and Scorponok roaming about, and then finally an emotion that he couldn't exactly identify.

_I'll figure it out_, Jazz thought as he drove down the barren road at speeds faster than any sports car engineers could ever dream of, _I just need some time._


	2. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reviews! Okay this is hard to explain but the hock of a horse is the joint on their back leg and its like our elbow except not as flexible. Here's another way: a horse's back leg is kind of like a sideways 'v' and the hock is the point of that 'v'.

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Chapter 1 

The water whispered soft murmurs as the girl drifted along. She kept her eyes closed, the soft rays of the sun bathing her fair skin in a kind of warmth that only the sunshine can give. Muffled echoes from the water chorused in her submerged ears while her brunette hair, soft and wispy tresses beneath the water, framed her face like a halo. The girl, caught in between the awkward threshold of childhood and adulthood, spread her arms upward through the water as if they were wings. Gently, she pulled them back to her sides as she continued floating along on her back.

There was no need to open her eyes and check on the whereabouts of Valor; she knew that the Andalusian horse was peacefully cropping away at the golden grass that surrounded the banks of the secluded pond. The girl let a smile play out across her sun bathed face. She knew how lucky she was to have such an extraordinary horse who was young and yet so amiably natured. Her father had held true to the generations of horsemen and women before him and had picked out the perfect horse for his daughter. Valor was still young, his coat was dappled from the transition of a black foal to a pristine white adult, but he was more level-headed than some of the adult horses her family had once owned.

Blinded by her ponderings, the girl was slightly taken aback when the warm water and sunlight disappeared. She frowned, figuring that she had drifted closer to shore where the oak branches stretched out above the water. The girl opened her eyes to see the mosaic of oak branches and leaves intermixed with the blue sky. She let her feet sink down below her so that she was upright in the water. Her toes briefly bumped against a waterlogged branch on the bottom and she immediately recoiled at the strange, unexpected touch. Valor peered over at her from the grassy shoreline, up to his knees in the golden grass that he overzealously tore up.

Valor was so peaceful and calm that he always seemed to reassure his girl. She treaded the water so that she avoided the hidden objects on the bottom, watching as the horse cropped away at the grass. Something about him was extremely regal which was partly the reason that he was named Valor which meant 'courage' in Spanish, the language of the country his ancestors originated in.

He was large, or rather would be large considering that he still had some growing to do, and looked as if he belonged in the famous oil paintings of royalty charging into battle on their magnificent steeds. Valor had a black mane and tail that were thick as they were long. His soft dark eyes peered out from the long ebony forelock that nearly ran down past his white face to the edge of his charcoal muzzle. The black insides of his ears were a great contrast to the white of their outsides. His thick neck, chest, shoulders, and haunches were an iron grey with dappled splotches of white and the dapples became more numerous along his broad stomach, so much that they formed large splashes of white. Valor's body was stout and thick, set on lean black legs; higher up on his legs the black faded away to the white dapples that dotted his haunches, neck, chest, and shoulders.

Looking up at the sky, the girl sighed when she realized that it was getting late in the day. Her mom would be coming home from work soon and would be needing help cooking dinner. That was the arrangement at home. Since there was just the two of them, the girl would take care of the animals and share in cooking and the household work. It wasn't anything new to the pair of women since the girl's father had been involved in the military since he had turned eighteen. He had risen in the ranks and while that had been beneficial to his career, it had left his family used to his long and frequent absences.

The girl swam to the shore and pulled herself from the water. She grabbed her sarong from the sand and gave it a good hard shake before messily tying it around her waist. Valor began hastily eating up all the grass within his reach, hoping to get as much as possible before being taken away from it. The girl leaned down and picked up the blue nylon lead rope that was clipped to Valor's leather halter which had fallen to the ground when he had shook away the flies. With practiced ease she swung up onto the horse's dappled back. Before she was even settled he was off at a brisk walk while still trying to grab at the tickling ends of the grass strands.

Valor trotted along beneath the oak and pepper trees, his movements slow and fluid. The leaves and grass beneath his rock-like hooves crunched and rustled with every step, creating a soft beat that went along with the rest of the sounds in the hills they were trotting through. The girl let her body swing along with Valor's as if they were one single entity instead of two polar opposite beings. Her wet curls bounced with the horse's movements, water droplets spraying off. The girl squeezed with her legs and Valor leapt forward into a flowing lope. It was so swift and smooth that it felt as if he was a wooden rocking horse rather than a living breathing creature. One of the frequent breezes ran by, picking up the fallen leaves and urging them into chasing the Andalusian.

Soon the ground began moving upward and the girl had to grab a chunk of the thick black mane to keep herself from sliding right off of Valor's back. The young horse was trying to go faster, his thick neck arched as he strained against the girl's hold on the lead rope. The girl smiled and gave in. She loosened her hold and let the exuberant horse rocket them forward. They bolted up the hill, Valor's powerful haunches digging deep. At the top of the hill, when there were practically no trees, all of the strength that Valor had been using to get up the hill turned into pure speed. He shot up over the crest so fast that both horse and rider were caught off guard by the downed oak tree in their path. The girl let out a cry when Valor pulled up short right before the log, his neck and head thrown up and almost hitting his rider, but it wasn't enough. At the very last second the horse gathered himself up and made an awkward leap over the fallen tree. The girl hung on but she was still so wet from her swim that she slid right off the moment that the jarring landing was made.

She landed with a dull 'thud', the side of her face planted firmly against the ground. For a few moments she was absolutely still before a groan erupted from her as she rolled over on to her back. Slowly, her body began quivering and her hands covered her red face. Valor looked on with a 'what are you doing down there?' look and worriedly nudged his fallen rider, his lead rope dangling from his halter onto the ground in front of him. The girl moved her hands and her laughter filled the air. She was laughing so hard that she curled her sore body up, her arms wrapped around her stomach. Dirt covered her while twigs, dirt, and leaves clung to her soaked brunette curls.

"Well that was graceful," she said to no one in particular as she pulled herself to her feet, noting that Valor had wandered off upon seeing that she was alright. She rearranged her black bikini top, the pink rhinestone flower covered in clinging dirt, and with a slight limp she began looking for Valor.

The girl didn't have to go far because she looked down from the raised land she was on top of down into a shallow, gently sloping canyon and froze at the sight that she saw. Down below her, almost in the bottom of the canyon, was Valor who had wondered off with his young attention span probably in the search of nice forage. The horse was snorting and frantically pulling back at the lead rope that had gotten caught in the barbs of a prickly pear cactus. Valor was frantic in trying to pull himself free; he was set so far back that the base of his tail was nearly touching the ground.

What had Valor so petrified was…a _robot_. The girl's world spun and went hazy as she stared at what was going on down in the canyon. She had to take a few steps back to keep herself from falling from the pure shock of the whole thing. It was if she was stuck in some bizarre dream after sampling some of her parents' vodka at one of her brother's illegal parties. The robot was about fifteen feet high with dark silver coloring and even had what looked like the antlers from Batman's mask on the sides of its head. When the girl noticed that its chest was made from a car chassis, had headlights on its wrists, and then wheels serving as heels on its feet, all she could do was stare with mouth agape at the realization that it was made from car parts.

When the girl finally got her bearings back, she dropped to the ground to keep hidden from sight. She began scrambling back down the hill but was frozen when she heard Valor's petrified cry. She wasn't about to leave her horse even though she was as terrified as poor Valor. Her heart yearned for her terror stricken horse and even though her flight instincts were screaming at her to run, she crawled back up to peer down into the canyon. Feeling completely helpless all the girl could do was watch and pray that Valor would be able to free himself.

The robot watched the horse struggling and was as still as the horse was frantic. Then slowly, he knelt down, taking on the position of a predator about to spring. This caused Valor to actually scream out and he lurched back with such power that his hindquarters slid right out from under him. If it wasn't for the lead rope, he would have flipped right over but instead he awkwardly fell to the side.

The horse scrambled to get himself out of the vulnerable position, his head held up high and keeping the blue lead rope completely taut. He swung his head about until he finally managed to get himself onto his hooves but the lead rope remained strained and taut from his backward pull. The girl was close to tears, her hand raised over her mouth to keep herself from crying out. Unbeknownst to her, her whole body was shaking, especially her raised hand.

The moment that Valor had flipped himself, the robot had gone back into a standing position. Its hands, which were made up of pincer-like claws, were raised up as if to show that it meant no harm. This, however, meant nothing to Valor who continued his struggle. The girl watched in amazement as the robot spoke, its baritone voice a lot more flowing when the girl would have expected a more spurted and, well, robotic tone.

"Come on now, cool it," it told Valor. "I'm not gonna hurt you." The robot continued reassuring the horse as it edged forward. It told the Andalusian that it wouldn't hurt him and that he needed to calm down for it to help. Whether it was because Valor had tired himself out or the robot's calm words and actions had actually registered in Valor's mind, the horse became less frantic. He was still set back on the lead rope, his eyes wide and rolling with fright. But he held still except for the subtle quivering that went over his whole body.

The girl let out a sigh of relief. Some, actually most, horses in Valor's position would have become so crazed in fear that they would have broken their necks in fighting to get loose. But Valor remained absolutely still as the robot cautiously stepped forward close enough to reach forward and pull the lead rope free. Valor scrambled backward from the sudden release of tension but instead of bolting away, he remained where he was. The horse was proving to be living up to his name.

The robot crossed its arms over its chest as if contemplating the horse's sudden change in attitude. Valor himself seemed confused as to why he wasn't running. He kept his head raised, ears so far forward that the tips nearly touched. The robot took a step forward which caused the Andalusian's head to bob up and a long, drawn out throaty snort to come out. With another of the robot's steps Valor started shifting from side to side but he never took a step back nor forward.

The robot knelt down while keeping its whole body straight, not resuming the predatory crouch it had taken on before. It was close enough to stretch out an arm and would be able to touch one of its claws if Valor stretched forward. The girl held her breath unbelieving that what she was seeing was real. A quirky, satirical bit of her mind was telling her that if Valor actually touched the caring robot that she would have to make sure her mom went out and bought lottery tickets.

It lasted for barely a moment but for a split second, Valor's velvety muzzle brushed against a silver claw. As soon as the contact was made, a breeze came up from behind the girl and rushed down into the canyon. Valor snatched his head away from the robot and swung his neck to look up at where the girl was hidden, his large nostrils dilated so much that she could see the pink skin inside. He glanced back at the robot but then bolted up the canyon side to the safety of his girl. The girl scrambled to her feet to keep Valor from accidentally stepping on her and besides, her presence had already been announced by her horse.

Valor pushed his forehead against the girl, his baby mentality telling him to get as close to her as possible. The girl hugged his head, her fingers wrapped in his ebony mane, while she kept her eyes locked on the robot in the canyon below. Robot and girl stared at each other, neither speaking nor moving.

"Megan!" The girl spun around at hearing the name. Both her mind and body was frozen when she saw two young men riding towards her on horseback. Meg looked back at the robot, who had taken a hesitant step backward, before looking back down at her oncoming friends.

"Give me a sec!" she called back. "I'll meet you guys down there!" Ignoring her sore muscles from her earlier fall, she swung up onto Valor's back and then reached forward past his neck to grab the trailing lead rope. With one last look at the robot, she urged the antsy Valor towards her friends.

The young cowboys joked about Meg's dirty appearance but with an extremely fake smile she was able to keep them riding away from the giant robot in the canyon behind them.

* * *

Jazz stared up the canyon side to where the girl and horse had disappeared over the crest. He was completely astounded as to what had just happened. Not only had he encountered his first equine since his arrival to Earth but a complete stranger, one he had seen for only a few moments, had kept his presence a secret. Sure he had encountered kind humans, Sam and Mikaela among them, but he knew that he was inconceivably lucky that a good-natured human had just seen him. He knew that Earth wasn't exactly thriving with amiable and peaceful inhabitants. Sure, the girl's name was uncomfortably familiar to the Decepticon leader's, but she had shown more character than he had ever encountered. He may have freed her horse from its unfortunate predicament but she had no reason to not go running and screaming to those two other humans. 

She showed more faith and trust than he or any member from his race, besides Optimus perhaps, ever would. If Jazz were to have that same amount of trust, he would have been killed long before he had been ripped in half or even before he had risen to the rank of First Lieutenant.

Jazz also knew that he would be greatly feared when encountering any of the humans and it would take a long time, by human standards, for the Autobots to earn their trust; it was something that Optimus didn't even have to brief him or the other members of his team about upon their arrival.

To put it simply, Jazz was dumbfounded. It was at that moment that he knew he needed to find this girl.

* * *

After changing her clothes, Meg squatted besides Valor's right rear leg as she held the hose to the horse's swollen hock. He had tweaked it during his encounter, probably when he flipped over or after, when he was trying to get back up. If she was able to keep it from swelling in the first place then perhaps she could help Valor avoid a lot of discomfort. 

"Little boy, I don't know how we manage to do it, but we always end up getting into trouble," the teenager said in a sigh. She rocked a bit back on her heels when her mind started drifting off into daydreams and caused her to let the hose wander off. Frigid water splashed up from the concrete and hit her bare legs. Not feeling the water on his leg and deciding that he was done, Valor started to walk off but Meg reached up and tugged at his black tail to remind him to keep him in place. The horse let off a very human-like sigh as he stood still again. Sure the pain in his hock was getting better but nothing was as soothing as the dinner which would soon be given to him in his stall once his human let off with hosing off his hock.

Valor seemed weary from his encounter with the robot and Meg couldn't blame him. She was exhausted from the experience and she had only been an observer on the sidelines. Reasons as to why there would be a giant robot in the middle of nowhere flitted through her mind but all of them were too near what she would see on the Sci-Fi channel for her own comfort. Domestic government, foreign government, mad scientist who hates the government, alien government? The whole thing was so….so _huge_, both literally and figuratively, that the best way for her to deal with it was by not thinking about it. In some twisted form of logic she figured that if she made herself forget what happened then perhaps it never really did happen.

Five more minutes of hosing off, Meg led Valor back into the tiny stable. Her flip-flops slapped against her feet, echoing in the twilight air. Her mom was constantly on her case about not wearing the proper clothes around the horses but Meg's teenaged mentality of invincibility was strongly set. In Meg's mind, if she got hurt it was her own fault and who really cared?

Of course her mother didn't quite see it in the same carefree way but she had grown tired of arguing with her daughter when she knew that it would make no difference. When it came down to it, Meg would always do what she wanted when she wanted and how she wanted. It was an admirable independence that would benefit her in the long run, hopefully, but it caused a huge headache for the mother who had to deal with the strong-willed independence coupled with teenaged rebellion.

With Valor in his stall Meg began feeding the inhabitants of the stable. There was Valor in the middle stall, the ''good ol' boy'' family buckskin Quarter Horse named Cougar to his right and then the goat and smaller pair of pygmy goats all sharing a stall on his left. While Meg adored the pygmy goats, Frick and Frack, she and her older brother despised the enormous goat from hell. At first they were fooled by the small(er) size and so-ugly-it-was-cute appearance but after being chased onto the truck's hood, the siblings quickly learned that the evil animal was out for blood. Which was why they nicknamed it Chupacabra, to their mother's despair. Luckily, for him anyway, Meg's older brother had escaped off to college which left Meg alone to fight off the evil assaults of the goat. Even Valor stayed well away from Chupacabra and the only ones that were safe near the presence of the beast were the pygmy goats and Meg's mom, Jeanne.

A good sized breezeway ran down the center of the stable, large enough to just barely fit a truck. Opposite of the stalls was the tack room, then the feed room, and then finally an open space for the bales of hay.

With the animals fed, a scratch between the ears for Valor and Cougar and an evil glare at Chupacabra, Meg ambled inside her house while trying to hide the slight limp. Her mother was in the kitchen, starting to prepare their dinner. A cacophony of metallic drumming blasted through the kitchen as her mother sought out the right sized pots from the cabinets beneath the wood countertops. Meg opened up a cabinet above the stovetop and pulled out a box of bowtie pasta.

"Have you heard from Dad today?" Meg asked as she took the large pot for boiling the pasta from her mother.

"He called while you were out riding. He was disappointed that you weren't here for him to talk to."

"God forbid that I'm out enjoying myself and not using my psychic powers to predict when he's going to call," Meg spat out bitterly as she filled the pot with water from the sink Jeanne stood beside. Her mother grimaced.

"Drop the attitude Marguerite," the middle-aged woman ordered softly, using Meg's real name versus her much preferred nickname. "You know how unpredictable it is over there." Meg just shook her head, despising herself for the resentment she felt. She loved her father and was so proud of how he was serving their country but she wanted her dad back home. So that they could eat dinners together, go out on rides, and for him to threaten the boys who took her out on dates. She felt like a spoiled brat of a traitor but she couldn't help but to wonder what was more important: the call to serve country or the call to serve family.

Meg was absorbed in her thoughts as she stirred the pasta, leaning her hip against the countertop beside the stove and keeping a careful eye on the sauce. Behind her she could hear her mother chopping at the broccoli. Suddenly there was a flurry of blurred fur as two figures came barreling into the kitchen. There was an enormous amount of hissing as the tiny blur in the lead leapt up onto the counter on the opposite side of the stove that Meg was leaning on. The calico hissed and bared her tiny, sharp teeth at the Doberman whining from the floor.

Momentarily leaving the cooking food, Meg took the cat in one hand and the Doberman's leather collar in the other. She led the large, black and tan dog to his chewed up bed in the far corner of the kitchen, ordering him to lie down. His pointed ears pointed straight out from his head in dejection, he curled up on his bed. He rested his muzzle on his tan paws with his puppy dog brown eyes looking up at Meg, the whites beneath his pupil showing. He sullenly watched Meg place the cat in her favorite place atop the fridge.

"Like I really think you didn't taunt him," she told the purring calico. The cat had a satisfied look in her golden eyes as she sat watching the dog below her, her tail flicking back and forth.

"Leave him alone Zoe." Meg's warning tone didn't cause the cat to break her haunting stare down at the canine. The teenager knelt down beside the Doberman, taking his stout, pointed head in between her hands and holding it close to her own face.

"And you, Trouble, don't need to be chasing her every time she runs past you." Trouble just watched her with his innocent eyes.

A bubbling sound from the stove caused Meg to run over to the stove. She resumed her post of stirring but not without catching her mother's small smile. With their backs turned to each other, Jeanne spoke.

"It cracks me up whenever you talk to those animals." Meg wore the same smile she knew was still on her mother's face.

"Hey, you're the one who always goes 'God bless you' whenever one of them sneezes," came the reply in a playfully accusatory tone.

"It's a reflex. Whenever I hear a sneeze, I automatically say it. Just like your grandma taught me."

"And just like how you taught me."

"Exactly."

Before anything else could be said, the phone rang. Meg's mom went over to the cordless phone above Trouble's mangled bed to answer the call. Most of the talking was done on the other end of the line but from her mom's short answers Meg gathered who was calling and what was being said. The conversation didn't last long and soon Meg's mom had resumed her position by the sink chopping fruits and vegetables.

"Randy asking if I was okay?" Meg asked, her tone neutral. She stared at the pale yellow pasta bowties swirling around in the bubbling water.

"He sounded pretty worried. Said that you looked kind of shaken when he and Grady ran into you earlier today. Also said you were pretty dirty, probably from a fall which makes sense with the way you're limping." There really was no hiding anything from her mom. Jeanne had everyone working as spies and Meg was pretty sure she had cameras installed in rocks, trees, and mailboxes. No wonder Meg's military father had fallen in love with her.

"Valor and I were surprised by a log on our ride. He tried to jump it but I couldn't stick the landing."

"Is that all? You're rarely fazed by a fall, unless it was bad." Meg muffled a groan. In addition to the spies and cameras, her mom had uncanny observation skills at her disposal. She was so good that Meg and her brother used to wonder if she was psychic when they were younger.

"I saw something…weird."

"What was it?"

"Don't know. A mirage I think."

"A mirage of…" Meg added 'relentless' to her mother's super mom skills.

"Don't know. I couldn't really get a good look at it because Randy and Grady showed up." The only thing that kept her mother's mental lie detector from going off was probably because Meg was technically telling the truth. She really had no idea what it was that she saw out there.

For a while there was silence as the pair finished cooking their dinner and then set the table. Except for the clinking of glass and silverware or the thud of bowls and cups being placed on the wooden table accompanied by the soft whine of Trouble from his bed, the kitchen was for the most part silent. Finally mother and daughter sat on opposite sides of the small circular table for four. Every once in a while when her mom wasn't looking, Meg would toss an unwanted vegetable over her shoulder for Trouble. Zoe still sat atop her refrigerator, her front paws curled beneath her and tail over the side of the freezer door. She wasn't happy that the annoying dog was managing to get more attention than her after he dared to chase her. No matter, a quick swipe at the nose would remind him who was really in charge of the household and family.

"When are you going to tell those boys that your real first name isn't 'Megan'?" Meg's mom suddenly asked. A small smile played over Meg's lips as she popped a piece of pasta into her mouth.

"Hey, they were smart enough to make the connection that 'Meg' was short for 'Megan'. I wasn't about to correct their moment of brilliance."

"I think you should tell them that 'Meg' is also a nickname for the name 'Marguerite'." At this Meg made a face. It was hard for her mom to tell whether it was because of what had just been said or that the teenager had just eaten a despised artichoke.

"They don't _exactly_ know that my name is really Marguerite."

"You go to school with them. They should know from roll call."

"No one but my teachers know my real first name and the first day of every year I've gone to class early and asked them to call me Meg." Her mom looked slightly insulted at this information that had been playing out for over a decade. She thought Marguerite was a beautiful name. If she hadn't thought that then she wouldn't have given her daughter that name. Meg saw this and instantly felt guilty. She promptly explained that it was just easier to go by a much shorter nickname and besides, the only time anyone used her first name was when she was in trouble so therefore she didn't like hearing it more than she had to.

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," Meg playfully quoted.

* * *

That night, just before bed, Meg lingered looking out her bedroom window. There was the familiar large form of the stable behind the house and then the faint shadows of the hills and then the cliffs even further out. Her fingers mechanically braided her wet brunette hair, water still dripping from the tips from the shower she had just taken. Green eyes wandered out through the window pane and past her blurred reflection. She wondered if that robot was still out there and if it was, what it was doing. She saw no reason why it would be out there in the middle of nowhere. She would think that it would be in some government bunker or out destroying a city. Not rescuing panicked horses in the depths of a shallow canyon in the middle of California. But then again, she wouldn't have thought that it would have such a smooth baritone voice. Or that it would be able to handle a situation like the one it had taken care of. Or that it was able to think things through or care about the horse. Was there someone else there unnoticed by her, ordering the robot what to do? Or was it really acting on its own, like it seemed to be? Did it mean that by acting on its own that it really did care about Valor? If it could care, did that mean that the robot had concerns and feelings? _Could _robots have feelings? Did that make it a robot? If it wasn't a robot then what was it? Who could build something like that? Could something like that even be built? 

Meg turned away from the window that prompted too many questions and overall confusion that would just lead to a massive headache and possibly the implosion of her brain. Instead of thinking it out further, Meg crawled into bed. Zoe was already curled up on one of her pillows, eyes narrowed into sleepy slits. Meg reached out and scratched behind one of the black and orange ears, a silky purr eliciting from the cat. Out of nowhere Trouble propelled himself up onto the queen-sized bed, causing a cry of surprise from Meg. Zoe merely flicked her ears back. The Doberman knew not to disturb the cat once she was settled or he would risk having bloodied scratch marks on his nose.

Trouble circled his lean yet massive body several times before collapsing against Meg's waist and legs. The girl had long given up on kicking the dog off the bed because, frankly, she couldn't deal with her heart swelling with guilt at the dog's pitiful whines of dejection. Even if that did mean having to deal with the angry hisses and yowls that would explode from Zoe when she was startled out of her sleep when Trouble was going through a restless dream in the middle of the night.

Meg couldn't help but to love the oddball pair because the cat and dog reminded her of the relationship she had with her older brother. In the both instances it was a love-hate relationship; the male overzealously loved the female and the female hated the doting attention.

Meg's brother, Andrew, was best described as a big loveable teddy bear. He enjoyed nothing more than hanging out with his friends and pretending to be stupid to get out of the truly stupid situations he and his friends ended up in. And he had annoying his sister down to an art. He knew that he could aggravate her most, not in the traditional bullying, but by being overly doting and loving. Each time he saw his little sister, he would rush her and lift her right off her kicking feet into a python-like bear hug. The worst was when he dyed Valor's coat purple because Andrew thought that it would make the male horse more 'girly' for his sister.

It was even worse for Meg whenever Andrew caught her around boys. Instantly her name went from Meg to the nerve-grating 'MegMeg' and Andrew had an endless amount of both real and made-up baby stories to entertain and mortify with. It was even worse when her older brother knew that she _really_ liked a boy; out came the carefully hidden, yet painfully obvious, threats and somehow Andrew would always manage showing their father's military awards and guns to the incredibly intimidated boy.

It had been an enormous change when her brother went off to college that caused a mixed response from Meg. She was pleased to finally live a day without being suffocated by Andrew's hugs but deep down she really did miss the big oaf. Andrew was an outstanding big brother and despite all of his purposefully torturous doting, he was just being protective of his baby sister. And Meg was just as protective of her brother as he was of her. Just ask the witch who had the nerve to cheat on him.

Thinking of her brother let the teenaged girl calm down from the mind-burning thoughts of the robot. Slowly she drifted off into a light sleep where she dreamed of a knight in gleaming dark silver armor riding Valor through the hillsides.

* * *

Jazz waited in his position behind the stable well after he saw the lights in the house turn off. He knew that humans could wake easily from their recharge cycles and he couldn't risk being seen by the other human or even by the older adolescent that had already seen him. The Autobots' secrecy was imperative to their survival on Earth and if their existence was made public, the consequences would be insurmountable. 

As soon as he was sure that the females were asleep, he stood up to his proper height, gears grinding out of their previous uncomfortable position. Jazz was not a mech who liked staying in one position for any amount of drawn out time. His structure was mostly designed for agility and speed, not for crouching behind an organic building for several hours with non-sentient life forms nervously moving about inside the structure, threatening to reveal his presence.

Checking once more to make sure that the humans and household animals were asleep, Jazz cautiously approached the house. First he knelt down and peered into the windows of a room where he had heard most of the conversation between the two females take place. He scanned the items in the room, slightly taken aback by the tiny machine that produced radiation microwaves, and then cross-referenced their images with those on the World Wide Web. Quickly his processor put together that this was a room called a kitchen in which the humans stored, prepared, and consumed their sustenance. Jazz shook his head; he couldn't understand why the humans made such a big deal out of their food so much so that they had to build a separate room for it. All he had to do to get nourishment was be out in the sunlight or inject a dosage of energon into his intake port. But then again he was learning that humans were completely different from mechs.

After investigating the kitchen Jazz moved around to peer into the other windows. Along with the kitchen there was also a room with a long table and many high-backed chairs, probably used for a large communal meeting. There was also a room with a desk covered in papers and pictures, model ships and planes, antique weapons, and awards scattered about on shelves and mounted on walls. With the exception of the decoration, it was strikingly similar to the offices of Autobot senior officers. Jazz himself used to have an office but he rarely used it, much preferring to work among his soldiers and fellow officers.

The only other room on the first level, besides hallways and closets, was a large room with upholstered furniture, large monitor (a television, Sam had explained to him), a stereo system, and a computer system along with a 'fireplace'. There was also a large wooden structure with metal pedals and a wooden bench in front of it that Jazz researched as a piano. This room seemed to be the most frequently used.

The second level was at a low enough height that Jazz could peer into the windows by stretching upward. There were only three rooms on the second level, the largest occupied by the mother. The other room was abandoned and then the room that faced toward the stable behind the house was occupied by the girl. Jazz was disinterested in the other two rooms but instead focused on the girl's room.

He carefully placed his clawed-hands against the wood paneling of the house and peered inside. His blue optics glowed back at him in the window's glass and he saw in the dark interior two large forms. Immediately he recognized the girl who was sleeping on her side, her body rhythmically rising and falling minutely with each breath her lungs took in and released. He could see her face, the muscles loose in sleep. Even though she was an organic alien creature he could see the peaceful serenity and innocence on her features. One of her arms was loosely wrapped across a bizarre creature.

It reminded Jazz of Sam's rodent Mojo but this creature was larger, far larger. With some help from the Internet he found that the creature was a dog just like Mojo but this one was characterized as a Doberman. Jazz was slightly amazed that both creatures were canines even though they were so different looking.

When the Doberman's head sprung up Jazz pushed himself back away from the house. Its ears, which were amusingly similar to Jazz's antlers on his cranium, were completely erect. The skin above its mouth crinkled up, revealing the knife-like bones lining its upper and lower jaws. A very distinguishable growl came from the dog and Jazz could see the girl starting to waken.

Before the girl could fully end her recharge, Jazz let out a hasty 'oh!' accompanied by a muttered curse and then dashed from the house. With practiced ease he disappeared into the night before the girl would ever know that he had been there.

* * *

Meg sat at the computer desk in the family room as she downloaded a new music album, her bare feet propped up on the cool dark wood as her fingers drummed lightly against the keyboard causing the keys to softly click without actually typing anything. Her intuition told her that the robot had been at her house the previous night. The first clue was Trouble growling in the middle of the night and staring out her window. Both Trouble and Zoe were clearly bothered by something and their unease had kept her awake. When Meg had gone out to take care of the animals in the stable, she saw that they were anxious as well. Both horses had let out full blown neighs when they had seen her, something that only Valor would do on occasion. The shavings inside of Valor and Cougar's stalls had been moved around to show that the two horses had been pacing circles the whole night. Frick and Frack were huddled in the far left corner of their stall with Chupacabra head butting the stall door the moment he had seen Meg. 

"I hope it was the real _chupacabra_ and that it'll come back to get you," she had said with a glare.

Back inside the house Meg was contemplating what to do. She knew that something needed to be done but at the same time her intuition told her that it was best to not to tell her mom too much. But if it wasn't the robot then her mom and the animals were in danger. Meg didn't think that the robot would harm them since it had saved Valor and even said that it wouldn't hurt the horse. Meg could only assume that the same went for people as well.

"Hey, Mom?!" Meg called out from the computer. "Mom?!" she yelled again when she didn't get a response.

"If you want to tell me something than you come here!" Jeanne irritably called from upstairs in her room. With a groan Meg let her legs fall to the beige carpet with a muffled _thud_. She dragged herself up to where her mom was putting away her laundry.

"The animals are really freaked out. I think something was hanging around outside last night. Trouble spotted it and woke me up." Jeanne continued folding the lavender shirt but kept her dark brown eyes riveted on her daughter.

"Coyote, opossum, or a raccoon?" The tone was harsh and serious. There was nothing to take lightly when two women living alone knew that something, or someone, was trespassing in the middle of the night.

"I don't think so. Trouble would have started barking and tried to get out to chase it if it was coyote or a raccoon. He was just growling. And Valor and Cougar are really anxious."

"A cougar then?" At this point her mom had put down the laundry, all of her attention trained on her daughter. Meg was starting to regret telling her mom about the animals' anxieties. She didn't want her mom to call out a full blown search and end up discovering the robot.

"I don't think so. It was probably just a coyote," Meg said, trying to pacify her mother. It worked, but not enough.

"Maybe we should leave Trouble outside tonight. He'll scare away any raccoons or coyotes." Meg bristled at the idea.

"No way! I'm not going to lock my dog out like that! If it's something other than a pest, he could be killed! Why can't we just leave Chupacabra out? If it's a coyote, opossum, or a raccoon, he'll head butt them to death and if it's a cougar he'll be eaten. It's a win-win situation." This time Jeanne was the one to bristle at the suggestion.

"That is _not_ happening. How could you suggest my goat being killed like that?"

"How could you suggest putting Trouble in that kind of danger? At least Chupacabra can go back to Hell, which is where he came from!"

Mother and daughter stared each other down, a battle of stubborn wills raging. Normally the adult would have had the advantage with her fear inspiring glare but that powerful glare had unfortunately been inherited by her daughter. Neither was going to relent so Jeanne had to play the ultimate card.

"Stay up tonight, both you _and _Trouble, and if you see anything wake me up," she said in a low authoritative tone. She raised her hand when she saw her daughter taking a breath to respond. "And I'm saying this because I am your mother and you will do it because I said so." Meg's mouth dropped in shock. Her mother had never used the 'because I said so' line since her own mother had used to so often that Jeanne had developed a deep resentment for it.

"That was low," Meg said after a moment of gathering herself. Her mom smirked as she returned to folding laundry.

"And I bet you one hundred dollars that you're going to use that same line to your children."

"Never."

"One hundred dollars," Meg's mom said as she held out her hand. Meg eyed it and then took it in her own.

"You're on."

"By the time you have children and you say it, you'll probably have forgotten this bet."

"No way! I'll go up and write it down in my diary."

For a little while Meg let herself push the happenings of the night before into the back of her mind. She went about her day checking her e-mail, walking Valor who was slightly tender from his hock, and doing odd jobs around the ranch. It wasn't until she found the marks in the ground that she really let herself think of the robot again.

They were behind the stable, right next to the corner were Cougar's stall was. Meg crouched down to look at the mark, her fingers hovering over the dirt it was embedded into. Trouble stood slightly behind her, staring intently and trying to figure out what had her attention while his docked tail swiveled from side to side. The marks were absolutely bizarre. They were made up of a strange assortment of geometric shapes that gave no hint as to what made the print. What was so bizarre about it though was that there was an actual tread mark from a tire. A single tread mark as if the tire was just dropped there and then magically lifted back into the air.

The hidden memory of how the robot was made up of car parts resurfaced in Meg's mind. It _was_ the robot she had seen the day before who had been sneaking around. But why was it hanging around at her house? What did it want? Was it interested in her or Valor?

"Agh, too many questions!" Meg cried as she screwed her eyes shut. She let herself fall into a squatting position. Trouble took her lead and sat back on his haunches, watching his girl with a mixture of worry and curiosity. Meg looked over at her dog and then back at the print.

"Why couldn't you be a blood hound?" she asked which only caused Trouble to cock his head. Using the large dog to push herself off the ground Meg went back inside to tell her mom that she had found some raccoon tracks and there was nothing to worry about.

* * *

Meg sat cross-legged on her bed with Zoe curled up on her lap. Trouble was sprawled out beside her, snoring away. For a guard dog he wasn't being very vigilant. Meg let herself fall against her pillows and she stared up at her ceiling. It was early in the morning and no matter how much her body and mind wanted it, she wasn't about to fall asleep. However it didn't matter that she fought it off as best as she could, her eyelids began drooping at about four in the morning. Luckily she had a demon goat to keep her in check. 

Horrendous bleating followed by a loud bang came from the stable, so loud that Meg and Zoe jumped awake. Trouble simply moaned and readjusted. Jolted awake Meg tossed Zoe off her lap and practically fell off the bed in her haste. At the sudden action Trouble was wide awake. He bounded after Meg as the girl flew down the stairs and out the back door. In the yard everything seemed in perfect order except for Chupacabra who was strutting about on his self-ordered midnight patrol.

Meg waited for a moment to listen if her mom was up but there were no noises from inside the house or any lights that had been flicked on. Cautiously, Meg moved behind the stable where she had found the footprint. Trouble walked closely beside her, so close that he nearly tripped the girl several times. The pair froze when Chupacabra froze and turned his freakish eyes toward them. The goat had been patrolling his stable, protecting the pygmies, and searching for any threats. And from the moment that he came to the ranch, he had deemed the girl and her despicable dog a threat.

Chupacabra lunged forward and barreled toward Meg. With a yelp from both girl and dog, they ran from the attacking goat as fast as they possibly could. Meg in the lead, they rounded the corner of the stable where the girl collided with a column of metal. She hit the dirt hard, head spinning. From her back she stared up with shock as a blurry towering figure loomed above her, silhouetted by the moonlit sky.

It took a long moment for her vision to clear and see the robot staring down at her with two vivid blue lights. Meg screamed as she scrambled away. The robot jolted back at her outburst but then, unbelievably, its left hand turned into some sort of machine gun with a shield around it. Several swirling orbs of blue shot from it and soared over Meg's head to impact the ground in an explosion behind her. Meg flipped to her stomach so that she could get to her feet but she froze when she saw Chupacabra. The ground barely a foot in front of him was a singed indentation and the goat had fallen over from pure terror.

"Holy shit," Meg muttered.

"It was going to attack you. I would have incinerated it but I know how you humans are fond of your animals." Meg looked up in shock at the robot when he spoke in that smooth baritone voice.

"Holy shit," Meg repeated, unable to comprehend any other words besides the two that were flashing in her mind. The robot stared down at her before kneeling.

"Are you okay?" it asked. The metallic face came unnervingly close to her own. She stared at the glowing lights, assuming that they were its eyes.

"Um, yeah. I'm okay," she replied in a squeaky voice. Then something suddenly clicked. "Trouble." Her words were mumbled since her mind was focused on finding her dog rather than speaking coherently.

"Trouble? Are you in trouble?" The robot was clearly confused yet turned on guard as he stood up, searching for any threat. It watched Meg look frantically about.

"Um, no. It's…my dog…his name is Trouble."

"Oh."

"Marguerite?!" Meg froze and stared up at the robot. It had gone down into a crouch and was completely focused on where her mom was probably standing on the back porch. "Marguerite?! Are you okay?!" Meg knew that her mom would be coming and there was no hiding her robotic savior. She looked over towards the direction her mom's voice was coming from and took a few steps forward, thinking frantically.

"I'm okay!" she called before turning back around to see the robot. "Can you..." In the robot's place was a small sports car, shining in the moonlight. "…hide?" It wasn't exactly inconspicuous but if her mom managed to get behind the stable at least it wouldn't be _as_ hard to explain why there was a sports car rather than a fifteen odd foot robot. But the difficulty level would probably be the same.

Meg dashed to where her mom was, who had come to the bottom of the back porch's stairs.

"Your demonic goat got out and tried to attack me. Have you seen Trouble?" Meg's mom was eyeing her suspiciously before turning slightly to the side to reveal Trouble cowering by the door.

"What courage and loyalty," Meg muttered under her breath. Then she turned her attention back to her mom. "I'll take care of _El Diablo_. So you can go back to bed. Now." Meg's mom continued staring at her as if she was insane… which she was. Finally she went back inside with the luckless Trouble kept out. There was no doubt that Jeanne knew that something was going on but she knew that her daughter had a good head on her shoulders so there couldn't be too much harm done. Once her mom was inside, Meg ran back to the back of the barn. There, as if it were any other car, was the robot. Meg simply stared at it, unable to do anything else.

As soon as everything was clear, Jazz transformed. He stayed in a crouched position and let the girl study him while he studied her. She was lean and tall for a human, especially for a female. Her curly brown hair, which he had early noted turned to an almost metallic shade of a rusted burgundy when in a certain angle of the sunlight, was in a braid that ran past her shoulders. Faint brown spots speckled her cheek bones and her arms but were most abundant on the top of her shoulders. Her body curved in a way that he knew was attractive to human males but upon a scan of her vitals found that she was not active in reproducing.

"What are you doing here?" The voice was light but he could hear it slightly shake with fear. No, not as fearful as much as intimidated.

"I needed to check in with you. You weren't supposed to see me." Jazz watched as the color from the girl's face drained. It made the speckles on her face stand out even more.

"What are you going to do…now… now that I've seen you?" Jazz couldn't resist. He let a low rumbling growl come from deep within his chassis that echoed from his vocalizer.

"That depends," he said in frighteningly low and even tone. The girl nearly fell backwards in fright and would have run if he hadn't raised his hands in submission. "I was just playin'." Seeing his honesty the girl calmed down. Her optics narrowed.

"That is the furthest from funny you can get," she said in such a rushed, insulted manner that it made Jazz feel guilty.

"Sorry," Jazz said with a shrug. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I can't harm humans."

"Can't? As in its impossible for you to harm me or because you aren't allowed?" Jazz was openly surprised by her intelligence.

"I'm not allowed to." Thoughts of the special agents working for Sector 7 made Jazz wish it was different though.

"Who says you can't? The government or…someone else?" The girl was smart, no doubt about that. Jazz could see what she was getting at. He could also see her obvious intimidation of him as she nervously shifted as she stood a 'safe' distance of about two of his arm lengths away from him.

"I'm pretty sure that your government wouldn't want me killing any of you but my Commanding Officer, Optimus Prime, has strictly forbidden the harming of humans."

"So this…Optimus Prime…is like you?"

"You sure have a lot of questions," the Lieutenant said with admiration and amusement. His amusement doubled when the girl's once pale cheeks became a glowing red. "How 'bout I explain myself and you can ask those questions of yours after?" The girl nodded her head and Jazz smiled, something he picked up when studying human reactions. It wasn't natural for an Autobot to smile but since it meant communicating better with the humans he picked it up rather enthusiastically. Especially when he realized how rewarding it was to cause a human to smile since he knew the meaning behind the action.

"Now I need you to answer one of my questions. What's your name?"

"Meg."

"Okay Meg, my name is Jazz. I'm an Autonomous Robotic Organism, Autobot for short, from the planet Cybertron-" Suddenly Jazz was interrupted by a low growl that sounded similar to the one he had given earlier. Trouble was standing behind Meg, his head low and ears flattened against his back.

"Oh, _now _you decide to be brave," Meg muttered as she threw her arms up a bit in exasperation before they slapped back against her thighs. She walked the short distance over to the dog and knelt in front of him.

"Its okay," she muttered as she took his head in her hands. "He promised he won't hurt us." The last part was a reassurance more for Meg rather than the dog. Meg knew that she was being insanely stupid but Jazz had said he wouldn't hurt her and he had saved Valor. There was also the part that if he wanted to hurt her, there was nothing that Meg could do to save herself.

Jazz moved around so that he could see the Doberman more clearly. Meg was surprised by the Autobot's lithe movements and he was nearly quiet except for the soft collision of his feet impacting the ground and the hydraulics that powered his movements. It wasn't necessarily that he was quiet, but he moved so fast that by the time the sounds were recognized, he was already close by.

Meg watched with curious and anxious amusement as Jazz lowered himself to Trouble's level and couldn't help but notice the similarity between the dog's ears and the antler-like structures on Jazz. Trouble was still growling but a slight push from Meg caused the growl to become much softer, but still present. His hackles were raised in an obvious show of warning.

"If you bite me, you're the one who's gonna be hurt, not me," Jazz announced, referring how Trouble's teeth would most likely break if he tried to bit Jazz's armored body. Personally Jazz couldn't understand why humans spoke to the animals as if they could understand but he was willing to try it out. He watched as Meg calmed Trouble down and it wasn't until Jazz straightened himself out that Trouble finally stopped growling. However the dog stood at tense attention beside his girl, always in constant contact. It was like this, with Meg standing a comfortably safe distance away, Trouble ready to jump into action at the slightest hint of threat, and Jazz in a crouch to be on closer level, that Jazz explained the Allspark, the Decepticons, the war, Earth's involvement, Mission City, his death, and the heroic, and questionably insane, actions of one Samuel James Witwicky. By the time Jazz was done, the sun was returning to the dark night sky.

Despite not having slept at all that night, Meg was wide awake by the time the sun was rising. Jazz's story was incredible and harrowing, especially when he told her that he had been ripped in half in the middle of battle to be brought back over half a year later by the All Spark and their medic Ratchet. Jazz even showed her the still healing weld marks just beneath his chassis. At some point during the story, Jazz had gone from simply being informative to being a full blown storyteller. It was a combination of calming down and her leg muscles throbbing but eventually Meg sat cross-legged in front of Jazz, just like a young child sitting in front of their grandfather as they were being told an old legend. The Autobot would never have had admitted it but he loved the way Meg stared at him with wide-eyes, hanging on to his every word. And if he embellished the story a bit, so what. Made everything a bit more interesting and it wasn't like he was lying.

"Where are you going from here?" Meg asked him as she stood up, stretching her cramped muscles. Trouble had calmed down a bit but he was alert the moment that his girl moved. The teenager was curious about the Autobot's destination since he hadn't explained why he wasn't with his comrades. Jazz, ignorant of the loose ends to his story, looked around and saw the two parked cars beside the house. One was an old rusted truck while the other was a small, newer looking SUV.

"Maybe I can stick around a bit, if that's cool with you," he said as he began walking over to the cars. Confused, Meg followed. She watched Jazz as he crouched down beside the cars, examining them. Then he reached out with a single claw and touched the small Mazda Tribute. Everyone jumped at the sound of the car alarm blaring to life.

A loud bang came from inside the house and Meg knew that there was no question that her mom was up. There was the sudden sound of metal grinding and hydraulics working and when Meg looked at Jazz she saw him falling in on himself, folding up until he formed a car. She was so amazed at seeing his transformation it took her a while for her mind to register when her mom came out of the house.

"What the hell is going on here?!" she yelled over the blaring car alarm. Her dark hair was a bit frizzy and she clutched her robe to her body. Meg spun around and stared at her mom.

"Andrew," was the reflexive response. Whenever she had gotten in trouble she always fell on that one name to get herself out of it. Too bad he wasn't there to actually lay the blame on.

"What do you mean 'Andrew'? He's not here…but that strange car is." Meg winced, hoping that Jazz wouldn't be insulted and realize that her mom was referring to a new car rather than a weird looking car.

"Um… it's his car. He won a contest. At the mall. Near his college. You know how those malls have those drawings were you can win a new car? Well, he won it."

"So what's it doing here?" The car alarm had gone into a repetition of the loud annoying tones and Meg had a bizarre image that those tones had a tattle-tale laughing quality to it.

"You know how those frat guys can get so jealous. Remember how they vandalized his friend's convertible? Andrew didn't want the same thing to happen to his new car." Oh, the lies were flowing so freely. Hopefully the super mom abilities didn't start kicking in.

Luck was with Meg and Jazz at that moment. Jeanne eyed her daughter suspiciously before walking back into the house while announcing that she was going back inside to get the keys to turn the car's still blaring alarm off. After it ended its blaring, the little SUV beeped twice in a perky tone as if happy to have ratted Meg out.

As soon as Jeanne returned to bed, Meg ran inside and up into her room. She grabbed her cell phone on her desk before running back outside, taking the stairs two at a time so quickly that she was on the verge of running ahead of herself and falling right down. The reason for the hurry was that Meg had to make sure that she talked to Andrew before her mom did. Once she was outside, and assured that her mom would be unable to eavesdrop, Meg punched in her brother's phone number. She could care less if she woke him up since it was early for him in the morning. In fact, she would take joy in it considering that the odds were he was hung over from drinking all night with his friends. Of course that may deter him from helping her.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he picked up almost immediately, his voice clear and not groggy from just having woken up.

"I need your help," Meg said before her brother could even say hello. She eyed Jazz warily but he did nothing to prove that he was anything other than a perfectly normal car. She wondered whether he was listening in on this conversation and was somewhat annoyed that she couldn't tell if he was when he was in this form. Not that she could read his expressions when he was in his other form.

"What is it this time?" her brother asked in a weary sigh.

"I just need to you to say that you won a new Pontiac Solstice in a drawing from the mall."

"I won a Solstice?!" Meg narrowed her eyes in disbelief and slightly shook her head. Andrew was so good at pretending to be stupid that one sometimes wondered if it really was just an act. Like how Hamlet pretended to be mad and then in fact went mad.

"No, I just need you to say you did and you're keeping it here at home."

"Did _you_ win it then?" The question made Meg pause, considering if she should lie to her brother. She hated lying to Andrew but she knew that if she was caught, it wasn't fair to needlessly drag him down with her.

"Yeah, I did. But they don't know I'm not eighteen yet because I lied about my age."

"Oh…Do I have to pay for insurance?"

"No, all you have to say is that it's yours."

"What about gas?"

"No," Meg spat, her patience starting to be replaced by her temper.

"Tune-ups?"

"No!"

"Spinning chrome rims and bass so loud that it'll blow a girl's clothes off?"

"What?!" Meg cried, not believing her brother even said that. "NO!"

"Oh…damn. Would have been okay about that last one…When I come home can I drive it?"

"No."

Then I don't see how I can pass it off as mine. I mean, I _would_ be driving my own car."

"Fine, you jerk. You can take it for a drive," she said while eyeing Jazz.

"All right then. You better be taking good care of MY car. How fast can it go?"

"I don't know and I'm not planning on _you_ finding out."

"We'll see about that. Oh, and Meg…you so owe me."

"This will be for the time that I didn't tell Mom and Dad that you got a $500 ticket for reckless driving _again_."

"Brat."

"Punk."

"Spoiled princess."

"Stupid jock."

"I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, bye. Love you."

"Love you too, Megs."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Meg ended the call. She didn't realize until after the phone conversation, when everything was silent in the brisk morning air, that her heart was pounding in her chest. Meg tentatively placed her fingers lightly over her heart and felt the rhythmic drumming beneath her touch.

* * *

Jeanne circled the Solstice, her lips pursed in concentration as her brown eyes examined the sports car in front of her. After two circles in opposite directions she finished her examination and gave her head a slight nod of approval. 

"It's a nice car," she said. Meg dumbly nodded her head, wondering what Jazz was thinking. She was still amazed at how well he could pass off as a normal car; both physically and the amount of patience it took to be so absolutely still. Meg wondered what it took to get him to move.

"Well, I'm going into town to run some errands and I won't be back for a few hours."

"Ok. See you later."

"I wonder if Andrew would mind if I took his new car," Jeanne contemplated. Meg's eyes widened and she started scrambling for ways to convince her mom not to take Jazz out.

"I don't think Andrew would be too happy with that."

"I'm his mother, I override him." Meg's mouth started gawking, begging words to come out.

"Where are the keys?"

"I don't know. The delivery guys didn't give them to me." Jeanne stopped right as she was reaching for the driver's door handle. Something Meg had said triggered something.

"Why did they deliver it so late at night?" she asked, turning her head to give Meg a suspicious look.

"They were running late. I thought about waking you up but you were out cold."

"I wonder why Andrew didn't tell me it was coming at least." Meg's immediate response was to lay the blame on her brother but she didn't need their mom lecturing him when he was risking so much by lying for her.

"I forgot to tell you."

"You forgot to tell me a car like _this_ was coming?"

"He didn't tell me what kind it was. I guess he wanted it to be a surprise." Jeanne scrutinized over her daughter before relenting. Meg was never so happy for the super mom abilities to be off. After examining her daughter, Jeanne reached over to the handle.

"Well, I'm just going to take it out and see how it rides." Oh, who said that women didn't like fast cars too?

Meg was trying to come up with more protests but she didn't have to. When Jeanne pulled on the door handle, there was no response. Apparently Jazz couldn't be manipulated and for the moment this made Meg the happiest girl in the world. The last thing she wanted was for her mom to be driving around in an alien that for all Meg knew could really be lethal. Luckily Jazz seemed to be agreeing with Meg on the not being driven part. His reasons, however, were completely different to Meg's.

For Jazz it was a matter that he had never had someone inside him, let alone driving him. It was an experience he was hesitant about going through. The idea of being driven wasn't exactly something he was fond of. Not to mention, at the moment, there wasn't a human he trusted enough to allow that privilege. Meg was proving to be the human he would most likely earn his trust but for the moment, he didn't know her long enough.

Jeanne frowned at the car, tugging harder. Jazz chuckled to himself. There was no way that the human was going to win this tug of war. A small part of him wanted to see her try though. Meg watched her mom with wide eyes for a long while before speaking up.

"I bet they accidentally left the keys in the car. Why don't you take the Tribute and I'll worry about getting the keys out." Jeanne stopped her futile tugging and said her agreement. After pulling the SUV's keys out from her purse, she gave her daughter a kiss on the check before going over to the vehicle she would be driving. With a disappointed look at the Solstice, she drove away.

Meg and Jazz watched the plumes of dirt billowing behind the Tribute as it drove down the lane which led to the main road in front of the ranch. Even after it disappeared beneath the tunnel of oaks lining the lane, the pair was silent.

Jazz was the first to move. Wordlessly he swung his driver door open and this action immediately caught Meg's attention. However the girl just watched him, not catching the hint as to what he wanted. Through his interior speakers, Jazz spoke up.

"My keys are in the ignition. They're purely for show and just because you use them it doesn't mean I have to abide. Take 'em in case you need 'em." Meg was hesitant as she walked around the open door and stooped inside the cab. She didn't want to evade his privacy, she could only imagine what it felt like to have someone touching _inside_ of her, but she wasn't able to reach the ignition without at least bracing herself on the smooth leather seat.

It really was like any other car with the exception of a mechanical looking face in the place of the Pontiac insignia in the center of the steering wheel. The grey interior was smooth, sleek, and rather simple. The only faux wood was a rather narrow strip right above the stereo system. Meg barely repressed a groan when she saw that Jazz had a stick shift. There was most definitely no way that she was _ever _going to drive him, not when she barely knew how to work a stick and the last time she did, her father nearly had a heart attack from how she almost ruined the truck.

After carefully extracting the simple keys from the ignition, Meg's eyes lingered on the stereo. Two questions had formed in her mind and they really had nothing to do with one another but everything to do with Jazz. First of all, the music junkie inside of her wondered how good of a system Jazz had. The other question was just how he was named 'Jazz'.

"What?" Jazz asked through his speakers, curious as to why the girl was staring thoughtfully at this stereo system.

"I was just…wondering."

"Bout what?"

"Um, nothing."

"Don't lie."

"I was thinking about…your name."

"What about my name?"

"Well, it's just that as far as I know, jazz music is distinctively American and I don't see how you could have that name because I highly doubt that you have jazz music on Cybertron."

"You're an observant girl. No, we don't have jazz music and we don't really have what you would identify as music. When my unit came here we had to pick an alias that closely translated with our real designation. My name means a certain rhythm of sounds back on Cybertron that closely resembled the beats found in a jazz song that I found on the world wide web. Hence, I made my alias Jazz."

"That makes sense... I think. So your name isn't really Jazz."

"It isn't. But I once heard that 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet'."


	3. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reviews and reads. For the non-horsey people, a flake of hay is a portion of the hay bale. It is the same height as the hay bale but is about five-six inches thick.

* * *

_**

Chapter 2

Meg balanced herself precariously on the fence, hunched over the book that was laid open on her lap. Her eyes bore into the words while the scene she read played out in her mind. Zoe sat on a post nearby, cleaning herself daintily with a white paw. The cat was absorbed in her work and was greatly perturbed when Valor came up to investigate her. She hissed, baring her tiny teeth, causing Valor to jerk his head up in surprise. He snorted and watched with soft brown eyes as Zoe nimbly leapt to the ground to find another sunny and peaceful place to clean her fur.

Cougar had long dispelled the pestering young horse by showing his annoyance with squeals, bared teeth, and mock kicks. With Zoe gone, Valor moved on to Meg for entertainment. He shoved his charcoal grey muzzle into the pages of the book, curious as to what had her so absorbed in something other than him. Meg, caught up in the unfolding drama of her novel, gently pushed Valor's nose away just to have it return as if it was tied by a bungee cord to the pages.

Meg sighed at the dirt, grime, and snot from Valor's nose that covered the pages in nasty streaks. The girl was the orderly type that had each of her books, both read and unread, in pristine shape on her bookshelf without even the dog-eared folds to keep places. To have Valor leaving his mark on one of her books, let alone a book that she was sure was going to be placed in her favorite section of the bookcase to be reread later on, was something compared to sacrilege for Meg.

"Valor", she drawled out as she tried to outmaneuver the pestering and relentless horse. Even though she was twisted into an awkward position, one that put her in an even more precarious position, she was unable to get away from the persistent Valor.

"What are you doing?" The deep voice came from directly behind her and made her jump with surprise. Normally that wouldn't have been a problem but since she was already barely maintaining her balance while twisting awkwardly to get away from Valor, the small jump destroyed her equilibrium. With a very unflattering cry Meg went over backwards right off of the fence. She landed heavily on her side, one of her arms pinned uncomfortably beneath her while her legs were still tangled up in the wooden boards.

Jazz stared down at her, bright blue optics shining in his silver face framed by the grey clouds above. His head was cocked slightly to the side as he wondered what had just happened and what she was doing on the ground. It reminded Meg of whenever she fell off Valor and the horse gave her the 'What are you doing down there?' look. The very look, in fact, that the horse was giving her at that moment as he peered over the fence at her sprawled out form. He nuzzled one of her boots right before she pulled herself together.

"Can you please not sneak up on me like that again…please?" Meg asked Jazz as she crawled to her feet. Jazz didn't say anything as he reached down and carefully grabbed her book between two claws. He raised it to optic level as he examined it. He saw the words printed but couldn't understand why they were on the thin pieces of fiber.

"What is this?" he asked as he looked at the picture on the cover. Meg stared at him with disbelief.

"It's a book."

"What is it for?"

"To tell stories, give information. A bunch of things."

"I thought you had the Internet for this purpose."

"Yeah, there's the Internet and all but before that there were books. And not everyone even has access to computers let alone the Internet. Or even books."

"Why?" Jazz crouched down so that he could look at Meg more easily as she resumed her place on the fence. Jazz rested his forearms on his knees, his claws dangling. Meg stared at him with wide eyes. She knew very well why not everyone had the resources they needed but she did not want to be the one that told the ugly truth about humanity to Jazz who had not been on earth for even a full year. But after having lied to her mom and getting away with it, Meg knew that her conscience wouldn't let her tell Jazz anything but the truth.

"Well, it's about priorities. People have the means to give lesser developed countries resources like computers, books, electricity, running water, but they choose to spend it on…other things." The expression on Jazz's face was harder to read even more than usual. He had raised his whole body higher even as he was still kneeling while he also crossed his arms over his chassis.

"What other things?" The smooth voice was calm but something was hidden in it that made Meg recoil. She reached back for Valor's familiar touch.

"Um, do you really want to know?"

"Yes," was the immediate response. Taking a deep breath to steady her hammering heart the girl explained.

"Usually things like nuclear missiles…and Lamborghinis."

"Are you serious?"

"I wish I wasn't. People tend to think the whole purpose of leading a country is to gain personal power rather than to take care of the people." Meg visibly recoiled at the engine like rumble inside of Jazz's chest.

"So this is what I died for. _This_ is why the Allspark was destroyed."

Meg was dumbstruck at the muttered comment. She was completely frozen where she sat and was unable to move even though more than anything she wanted to get away. It was far too easy to understand Jazz's vehemence but he also didn't seem to know the whole reason why his sacrifices had been so important. Nor did he seem to care.

After the tedious silence Meg couldn't take it anymore. She slid off the fence and walked over to the gate, Valor following her on the other side of the fence. The girl didn't even bother putting Valor's halter on. She just wrapped the lead rope high up on his neck, right behind his ears.

"Where are you going?" Jazz asked. Meg didn't even look back at him as she spoke.

"I have to do my homework."

Inside the stable Meg stayed inside Valor's stall. She wrapped her arms around his thick dappled neck and buried her face into his rough ebony mane. Doubts began running through her mind about whether or not her judgments were right. It wasn't like she could blame Jazz for his anger at the greed of the human race but if those sacrifices hadn't been made in Mission City than she would have died. Her mother and brother would have died and her father would have had no chance considering his military status. Yes, the dictators were spared their lives as well when they didn't even deserve to be alive but the most innocent of children were spared as well as the teenagers who aspired to be like the people who went out and did good in the world. And now their saviors regretted it.

More than anything Meg just wished she could cry and let out the overwhelming emotions that were begging to be let out. But she couldn't cry. She hadn't cried for years and even though she could bring on the tears, they were forced and it became more that she was trying to make herself cry rather than releasing her emotions through her tears.

Once Meg slid the stall door closed behind her, Trouble emerged from sleeping beneath the counter in the feed room as happy as ever. He stared up at Meg with his puppy dog eyes and docked tail wagging from side to side. For a brief moment Meg knelt down and hugged the large dog around his neck. She could see why her father loved him so much and was so adamant on keeping him. Even though the puppy had managed to flood the kitchen within the first week he had come to live with the family.

As soon as Meg closed the stable doors, she spotted Jazz standing at a distance from the house. He didn't approach her which was fine with Meg. Instead, she went right up into the house and to her room with Trouble following her.

After both her father and brother left the ranch it was decided that Meg would be home schooled so that her mother could still work as an interior designer in the city half an hour away without risking the ranch falling into complete disrepair.

It was somewhat backwards with who should be staying home to take care of the house but Meg didn't mind. School had barely been tolerable and most of her friends had been a grade higher than her and had already graduated. Since she had gotten almost all of her requirements out of the way while attending her local high school, she was able to get everything done through the home schooling system. Every Tuesday Meg would drive into the city and pick up her packet of work that she needed to complete and turn in the work she had previously completed. Holding true to the typical teenaged fashion of procrastination, Meg always left the work until Monday. If she was feeling ambitious she would start it on Sunday. But that was rare.

Zoe was sprawled out on top of the open books on Meg's desk. It was a mystery as to why cats always found books and papers so comfortable to lie on when they had plenty of beds, couches, and other soft surfaces to sleep on. Meg gently picked up to cradle the cat who more resembled a rag doll rather than a feline; she also swiped up some books, pens, and a binder. Unceremoniously she dumped her armload onto her bed, careful to keep Zoe from being hit by the falling school supplies. The cat haughtily waited as Meg settled on her stomach with her books spread around her. Once everything was still Zoe gingerly walked across the rich shades of purple and blue large silk squares that were stitched together to form the duvet cover. She stepped up onto the curve of Meg's lower back and curled up into a tight little ball. Once the cat was comfortable, Trouble catapulted himself onto the bed, knocking a needed book onto the floor, before collapsing across Meg's calves.

"I'm just a giant pillow, aren't I?" the girl grumbled.

Several hours and many cramped muscles later, Meg slammed the binder containing her homework closed. The whole while there had been no sign from Jazz and it was almost like he wasn't even there. Completely drained from the emotional and intellectual strains from the day Meg rolled to her side, dumping a very perturbed cat onto the duvet. Trouble merely groaned when Meg pulled her feet from under him. Zoe trotted out to find a spot where she could nap in peace and without any annoying disturbances. Getting up to toss her books onto her desk, Meg collapsed back onto her bed and fell fast asleep.

* * *

By the time that Meg woke up it was a lot later in the day than she had expected. She stretched before tumbling out of bed and barely managed to catch herself before hitting the ground. Still sore from her fall off of Valor, and the fall from the fence not helping her battered body, the last thing she needed was to hit the ground again. Stumbling over to the window she was surprised that the clouds had grown dark and angry. Heavy rain raindrops were splattering against the window and made the vision of the rain coming down in silver veils blurry. Meg could hear the _pitter-patter_ of the rain hitting the dirt and wood outside. 

Once Meg's father had told her that the reason he loved the rain was not necessarily the fresh, clean feeling it left. He told her that the rain allowed people to stop and breathe for once. There was no doubt that beautiful warm days were incredible but they also came with the obligation of going out and doing something. But with rainy days, people could usually just go inside and relax while listening to the soft music coming from outside as the rain fell.

Meg stared out her bedroom window out toward the stable. A steady sheet of rain was coming down in the humid air. The girl looked at some of the raindrops clinging to the chilled glass and the way the world outside was reflected upside down in the miniscule misshapen drops of water. In the tiny orb Meg saw the bulging form of the stable and then to the side of it she saw a certain dark silver sports car hunkered down between the two larger shapes of the Tribute and the old truck.

Meg felt a wave of pity as she looked past the raindrops and directly at Jazz. Normal cars had no problem being in a random storm but Jazz wasn't exactly a normal car. It was still debatable if he even was a car. The teenager needed to go out and take care of her chores outside in the stable so maybe she would take care of Jazz at the same time.

With a sigh she began pulling on some socks and her rain jacket before going out on to the back porch to put on her rubber muck boots. By the time that Meg was prepared for the rain and mud, Trouble was already bounding around the yard and through the muddy puddles. Meg rolled her eyes but let her dog live up to his name. Hesitantly she made her way over to Jazz and the rain seemed to come down harder as Meg jogged over to him, clutching her hood to her head. As she neared Jazz she dropped down to a walk. The raindrops created soft _pluck-pluck_ sounds against her slicker.

She stood in front of the Pontiac insignia, trying to think of what to say. Since Jazz could only speak through his interior speakers when in his alt mode, he gave an inquiring flicker of his lights. He wasn't about to roll down a window to have a gust of wind blow the cold rain into his interior.

"Um, I was just wondering if this rain was bothering you." She waited for some kind of response and when there was none, Meg continued. "If it _is_ bugging you, you're welcome to stay in the stable. You should easily fit in the barn aisle." Meg backed up a bit to wait for some sort of response. She found it in the form of Jazz rolling forward a bit. Meg gave a wavering smile before stepping aside and walking over to the stable. Jazz crawled along behind her, almost absolutely quiet except for the sound of squishing mud beneath his tires and soft _thrum _of his engine. Trouble bounded up to Jazz's side, landing in a puddle and sending up a plume of beige water all up on to the glistening metal. Gears rotated inside Jazz, creating a mechanical groan. Trouble let out a whine that ended in a pathetic bark and was about to go off to run around when Meg took a firm hold of his leather collar.

"I wonder if I renamed you something like 'Goodie' you'd live up to _that_ name instead of 'Trouble'," Meg grumbled. A deep rumbling came from Jazz's engine which caused Meg to quickly glance back over her shoulder, unsure of what the rumble signified.

With one hand still keeping a firm hold on Trouble's collar, Meg used her whole body to push the rolling barn door back. While she did so, Jazz positioned himself so that he could back in. Once the door was open enough, Jazz fluidly reversed into the barn. Valor and Cougar shoved their heads over the stall doors to see what was going on. Valor stretched his neck out and his thick upper lip brushed against Jazz's roof as the Pontiac rolled past his stall.

After seeing the Solstice backing in Cougar retreated into the security of the back his stall, feeling an uncomfortable vibe coming from the strange car. The buckskin was a good horse and this mostly had to do with him being wary to anything that may pose to be a threat. Once Meg went into his stall, talking in a low and calm tone, he settled down but he never did venture to put his head and neck over the stall door. After Meg left his stall, Cougar stood in the back, head raised and ears flicking in all different directions as he listened for anything that would prove to be a warning.

Jazz was silent as Meg went into the tack room to grab an armload of towels. Trouble trotted around in the slightly crowded barn and was quick in spotting Zoe up in the rafters. The Doberman stared up at the precariously balanced cat and he danced a bit as he stood up on his hind legs while whining. Trouble fell back to all four paws and then backed up a bit. Just as he was about to leap on to Jazz to get closer to Zoe, Meg stepped out of the room with the towels.

"No!" she practically barked, causing the dog's front end to come to a halt so fast that his rear kept going and he fell face first on to the rubber mat flooring.

Freeing one hand from holding her load, she snapped her fingers before pointing Trouble to an old horse blanket with dog toys amongst the hay bales. Dejected, Trouble dragged himself over and collapsed on top of the blanket. It didn't take long for his abandoned heart to heal once he discovered his favorite rawhide amongst the folds of the blanket. Zoe, unmoving from her perch in the rafters, watched the whole thing with a very satisfied look to her golden eyes.

Meg just shook her head, reminded of Andrew for a moment before addressing Jazz.

"I need to feed the horses and goats. The hay tends to get everywhere and it'll be a pain to get off of you if it gets on you while you're wet. Is it okay if I dry you off with the towels?" Jazz rolled his windows down, the glass squeaking and squealing which caused Meg to barely repress a wince.

"I'd appreciate it," he told her, his tone reserved and slightly somber. Meg nodded her head once as she set the stack of towels down next to the wet and muddy tread marks made by Jazz's tires when he backed in from outside.

Taking a towel from the stack, Meg diligently went to work. Jazz felt Meg's nerves in the hesitant way she moved the soft towel in hard circles over his armor. It was a strange sensation for Jazz, the soft synthetic fiber pushing against him in a circular motion especially when Meg's soft skin would accidentally touch him.

At fist it was unnerving to him but then he slowly grew to get used to the rhythmic motion until he thoroughly enjoyed it. Meg would have had to been blind, deaf, and dumb to not have noticed the soft hiss of hydraulics as Jazz allowed himself to lower more heavily on to his wheels and even pushed slightly against her.

Meg worked diligently for three quarters of an hour to make sure that every drop of water and each speck of mud was off Jazz and on the towels scattered about the barn aisle. The only thing Meg couldn't manage to get clean was the water streaks on his windows. But that would mean having to go out into the down pour to get the cleaning solvent from the house which was something that Meg was extremely reluctant to do. Besides, the animals had been waiting patiently for their dinner, with Chupacabra occasionally head butting the stall door in his typical fashion, but that patience was beginning to wear off.

"That should do it," Meg said as she stepped back. "I can't do much about the streaks on your glass but are there any other spots I missed?"

"No…You did a good job." Meg gave a nod before walking over to the bales of hay. She woke up Trouble so he could get out of the way and she wouldn't accidentally drop anything on him. The dog sleepily got up, ambled into the tack room and hunkered down beneath the saddle rack holding Meg's father's roping saddle.

With Trouble out of the way Meg took a knife she kept stabbed into the hay bales and cut the three rough strands of twine holding the bale together. The twine snapped away after the enormous tension that had been needed to keep the wispy hay together and the front half of the hay bale began braking off into thick flakes. Meg thrust the knife back into another bale of hay while doing her best to keep the front of the undone hay bale from falling onto Trouble's blanket. After she pulled the twine away and tossed it into a bag, she separated five flakes of hay; two for the growing Valor, one for the relatively small Cougar, and another two for the goats to share. The bits of hay poked against her clothes and bits of it floated to the ground as she moved. She tried her best to keep the miniscule bits from getting on her and Jazz but that was pretty much impossible. Valor and Cougar gave throaty knickers as Meg tossed their flakes over the stall door, the goats appreciably silent as they dug in into their flake of hay.

Although his windows were rolled down, Jazz remained quiet. It would have unnerved Meg if she didn't have the chore of measuring out the horses' grains and the goats' special feed in addition to cleaning and then refilling the water buckets.

"I'm sorry," Jazz said as Meg came out of the goats' stall, barely unscathed. The only time Chupacabra was willing to tolerate the girl was when she was feeding him. Meg walked past Jazz with an empty bucket when she briefly placed her hand on his roof saying, "Its okay."

"No, Meg, it isn't." The girl stepped into the feed room to put the bucket back. She came back out with her arms crossed and leaning against the frame of the feed room's door.

"I've always hated it when people snap at me but I understand. Humans can be pretty horrible beings, trust me, I know. But there _are_ good people out there. You just don't hear about them as much."

"I know. I've realized that now. If I hadn't done what I did or if the Allspark wasn't sacrificed, then people like you…" Jazz trailed off, unwilling to think of what Meg's fate would have been.

Meg was quiet for different reasons. Personally she didn't think she would be considered a 'good' person; she had never been in a position to prove she was a good person or been involved with things like charities. But it wasn't exactly appropriate to argue that with Jazz.

Meg walked over to the Solstice and placed her fingertips on the warm hood. She didn't know where to look so she settled for looking at his windshield.

"Don't dwell on it Jazz. You and the others made the biggest sacrifice and everything is relatively okay now. You can't dwell on the past because no matter what, it's permanent." Jazz didn't know how to respond because for him, it wasn't okay. If it was, he'd still be at the base.

Giving a small smile Meg pulled her hand away and went about finishing her chores. Suddenly something solid hit metal, causing a hollow sound. Jazz's engine roared as he shot back. Meg darted over to Jazz and in the same motion she scooped Zoe from his hood as she pressed her palm against the passenger door.

"Its okay Jazz," she said in the same tone as she would use when calming down the horses. It didn't matter that Jazz was from another planet, he instantly recognized the reassurance; his brakes squealed as he came to a stop a yard from where he had originally been. Once she knew that everything was okay, Meg took a step back while holding Zoe close to her.

"It's just Zoe. I don't think she realizes you aren't like all the other cars. Actually, all the animals seem to be able to tell you aren't normal but I think she just doesn't care." As Meg spoke to Jazz she scratched Zoe beneath the cat's chin, eliciting a low _pur-r-r-r_.

"Why is she making that noise?" Jazz asked, wondering why the organic was making a noise he had only heard from robotic organisms. Frankly, he was embarrassed that he had been startled by a simple feline and then was calmed down by the teenaged girl. He wanted to get as far away from that lovely moment as possible. Meg quickly figured this out, after all masculine characteristics were even apparent in robot aliens, and went along with the distraction.

"She purrs when she's happy or content. Right now she's happy because I'm scratching her favorite spot." Meg smiled down at the cat and continued smiling as she looked back up at Jazz. "Haven't you ever heard a purr before?" To answer Meg's question, a smooth and low purr came Jazz's engine that gave Meg goosebumps. The girl didn't understand why she felt so embarrassed or why she was blushing but Jazz wasn't surprised at all and in fact was very proud of himself. When a mech and femme were being intimate, the mech would make that purring sound. Jazz knew that he was the ultimate female's mech by Meg's response, especially the chemical signs she wasn't aware of; it didn't matter what planet or what species, he could still entice the females.

"My kind makes that noise when we are trying to comfort others," Jazz informed her, opting to leave out the other, more intimate, use of the noise.

"Oh," was all that Meg said as she walked over to the barn door, still holding and scratching the calico. She looked outside briefly, feeling the refreshing chill of the rain as it came down in a heavy onslaught. She was not looking forward to going out into it so she walked back to Jazz and sat against Valor's stall door. She slouched against the door, her knees upraised which caused a nice comfy space for Zoe to curl up. Meg scratched the cat, her fingertips submerged in the soft splotches of orange, black, and white fur.

"I was wondering something," Meg said as she looked down at the quietly purring Zoe.

"And what is that?"

"Well, why exactly are you here? I mean, you come out of no where and decide to hang out here for seemingly no reason at all."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because it doesn't make sense!" Meg cried, letting herself get exasperated. "This place is in the middle of no where."

"So why does it matter that I'm hanging around in the middle of no where when I came from no where?" Meg grabbed a towel that was beside her and hurled it at Jazz and she swore she heard him give a rumbling chuckle as the white cloth flopped on to the floor. She was starting to become frustrated so he finally answered.

"Because for my whole drawn out life I've been fighting this war. It was something I never questioned because it was what I was for and all I knew. But after I died, everything was different. In a good way. For once there was peace.

"And then I was brought back and this really fried me. I wanted to keep that sense of pace but at the same time I knew I was needed…that I was missed. I'm glad I was brought back but at the same time I wish I wasn't. And that's just really screwing with me." Meg felt her heart swell with pity and she instinctively pulled Zoe closer to her chest. She could only imagine how Jazz felt and in all honesty she didn't want to even imagine herself enduring the internal conflict he was going through.

"But did you have to come back if you didn't want to?"

"No." The word was painfully quiet.

"So why did you come back?" Meg ventured.

"Because I knew that if I didn't, my comrades would never be able to experience that sense of peace I felt when I was gone."

"Isn't that enough reason for you to be content with coming back?" Meg had a sudden vision of her becoming a psychiatrist or psychologist for mechs but she quickly pushed the extremely random thought out of her mind before she began visualizing Jazz lying out on a couch.

"It used to be…but that's why I'm there. I got leave to figure it all out. Just followed the road and ended up here."

"Oh." Meg was silent for a long while. It did make sense when he finally explained it. To put it simply, Jazz didn't know how to handle it anymore. Meg could relate. It was like when she first really realized what it meant that her father was a soldier and that entailed him having to take lives. It had been a hard concept for a kid who refused to step on ants to comprehend. His job meant that he would have to kill others but at the same time it was keeping the people of her nation safe.

Meg looked at Jazz with a new understanding and wished desperately that she could help him.

* * *

"I've got another question," Meg asked as she sat on a large flat rock that was surrounded by swaying golden grass as if she was on an island. Jazz lounged beside her, looking up at the sky and leaning back on his claws. His visor was over his eyes just as if he was wearing sunglasses. When Meg asked him about it he explained that his optics were extremely acute which meant they were equally sensitive. It was why he wore a visor in battle, to protect his optics from damage as well as to make sure the blaring lights of energy explosions didn't blind him. For the moment though, his visor served as pretty good sunglasses. 

"What's your question this time?" Jazz asked with mock annoyance. Meg was gradually learning his personality and habits, just as he was learning more about her. She somewhat picked up on the teasing tone but she wasn't confident. So she took a different route.

"If you don't want to hear it, I won't ask," she said as she pretended to turn her full attention over to her books.

"Naw, girlie, I want to hear it." At this, Meg twisted around so she could look straight up at him.

"Good, because it actually woke me up last night when I first thought about it."

"Aw, so you stay up at night thinking of me?" Jazz playfully asked. He laughed as Meg began to blush. It was amazing to him the way that humans' facial tissues changed colors along with their emotions.

"No! I just hate it when I don't understand things…like you."

"So you hate me?" Meg was dumbfounded into silence, taking a moment to understand where he got that notion from. When she finally got it she scowled.

"Jazz! Can I just ask the damn question?" The Autobot gave a rumbling laugh at Meg's flustered behavior.

"Go ahead." With a glare, Meg took a moment to remember what her question had been in the first place. When she did remember she immediately perked up, green eyes wide.

"When you transform into the Solstice, that isn't real leather interior, is it?" Jazz smiled at her question and shook her head.

"No. Just like you aren't made up of just skin, I'm not made up of just metal. I have components in me that I made resemble the texture of leather."

"How do you do all that?" Meg shook her head, asking herself more than him. Jazz immediately rambled off into an explanation using words that were far too big for Meg to even want to comprehend. She shook her head and cut him off. "What?" he asked. "I thought you hated things you didn't understand."

"What I hate even more is when I'm trying to understand something and my head hurts so bad that it feels like its about to implode." Jazz gave a perfectly symmetrical smile with his head cocked to the side before leaning down, soaking up the sunshine.

It was a beautiful and fresh day after the rain storm. For the first time in a long time Jazz was able to enjoy beauty. Looking up at the sky that was the same color as his optics, only a bit less vibrant, the mech felt the most peace he had since he was brought back from the Matrix.

He wasn't startled when Meg's voice came from so close because his audios picked up how she put her books and papers away, jumped off the rock, and walked up closer to him. What she said, however, did startle him.

"You're gonna kill me but I have another question." Jazz bolted upward and propping himself up on one elbow put his face close to Meg's with his visor pulled up to reveal his optics.

"I will never kill you," he said with such seriousness that Meg took a step back.

"It's just a saying," Meg whispered. Jazz slowly shook his head, optics somewhat dim.

"Please. Never use it again." Meg nodded weakly and turned away, her question no longer appropriate for the mood. Feeling somewhat guilty to see the girl look so dejected, Jazz reached out and gently wrapped his claws around her torso to lift her into the air and closer to him. Unknowingly, Meg held her breath since she had no idea what he was doing. Once her feet were back on the ground, with her back to him, Jazz carefully placed one of his claws on her shoulder to pull her around to face him. When she was looking at him, her green eyes were wide with surprise. Jazz noted this with a small smile and a question of his own formed except it would wait until he had answered Meg's.

"You never asked one of those endless questions of yours." Meg blinked quickly a few times, trying to gather her bearings. When she did, she reached forward hesitantly and gestured to the markings on his facial plates and bars below his optics. The markings on his facial plates had been hidden beneath his visor but the ones on the bars were clear unless he activated his full battle mask that covered the bottom portion of his face.

"What do those mean?" Meg asked, her eyes looking from the markings up to Jazz's curious optics. The markings looked too much like hieroglyphics to just be scratches.

"They show my rank and the achievements I've made. I suppose they are a combination of tattoos and the bars that you're military officers wear." As he spoke he took a claw and ever so gently moved Meg's hand so that she touched the markings she had been inquiring about. Surprisingly they weren't very deep etchings but they looked like they were deeper because they were a darker shade of silver.

"What's your rank?" she asked as her fingertips ran over the symbols.

"My title translates to First Lieutenant but its actually a lot higher ranking than that. More like a Major General. I don't think Optimus would want to take the second lowest ranking officer he had on a mission like this."

"I had no idea you were so high up." Jazz laughed at this and asked her why. "Whenever I've met an officer of that kind of rank, it's made known right away."

"I'm proud of my rank but I usually let my reputation say it for me. Of course that's kind of hard to do here on Earth since no one knows me. Or is supposed to know me." Meg reached passed the bars and touched the smooth metal plating that they protected beneath.

"Are they permanent like tattoos?" she asked, going back to her original question.

"Yes and no," Jazz answered as he held perfectly still except the movement of his oral cavity. "We can remove them if the situation calls for it, like for our undercover operatives, but for the most part everyone is proud of their achievements. It is an honor that is not taken lightly."

"My dad is like that but there's two of his awards that he has hidden."

"Why is that?" Jazz inquired as Meg took a step back, accidentally bumping into Jazz's claw.

"He says that achievements are based on success and the missions he received those medals for weren't successful. He had lost one of his soldiers on one and then civilians on another. He never talks about it."

"There have been instances like that in my ranks. Would have been the same for me but I've refused to get the markings if I felt the achievements were not up to my standards."

"Are your standards high?"

"Extremely."

"Huh," Meg stated since there really wasn't anything else to say.

"Now I have a question."

"That's more than fair considering how much I've been asking you." Jazz sat up and rested the joints that served as his elbows on his knee joints, his claws dangling.

"What is the significance of your optic color?"

"Huh?" It's amazing how such a guttural sound was appropriate in so many instances.

"Your…" Jazz trailed off, his expression somewhat blank as he researched optics on the Internet but was unable to find a human equivalent. So he was stuck doing it the old fashioned way. "Your…visual components."

"My eyes?"

"Yes, that's it! What is the significance of their color?"

"Um…there…is…none." Meg wasn't exactly sure why Jazz was curious about her eye color. They were green. Not as common as brown or blue, but it wasn't like one was blue and the other brown like her cousin.

Jazz leaned forward and asked if he could pick her up. Meg nodded her head but still tensed up when Jazz gently wrapped his claws around her torso for the second time. He placed his other claw beneath the one holding her as he raised her off the ground to be sure that if she slipped, she wouldn't hit the ground. He lightly placed her so that she was standing on his knee. Keeping one claw beside her so that she had something to hold to keep her balance while she was in the precarious position, Jazz knelt in closer than he had ever been before. His left optic focused on Meg's left eye and the blue orb dilated as it focused in on her. His visual processors whirred as they analyzed her, his HUD components pointing out different details.

Meg was only somewhat surprised at how much his optic resembled a human's eye. From a distance it looked like just a bright blue light but closer up it was clear that it was made out of many components that had different geometric shapes. All of them formed a stunning orb that shone with vibrancy.

Jazz was studying Meg's eyes just as much as she was studying his optics. He hadn't had the chance to really examine her eyes except just enough to note their unusual color. He had referenced the Internet one night when she had been asleep but he was slowly starting to realize that he couldn't find everything about humans by their World Wide Web. Which was ironic considering that he had found plenty of things he had _never_ wanted to learn about them through the Internet.

Meg's eyes weren't just the color green as he had originally thought. Along the edges they were a color green that resembled the thin leaves of the numerous pepper trees on the ranch land but going further in, the color lightened to a softer green until it became a gold around the black pupil. There were lines and depths to the irises of her eyes and it reminded Jazz of the gorgeous patterns found in light echoes out in space.

"Why are you wondering what my eye color means?" Meg asked without breaking Jazz from his studious gazing. The teenager was somewhat unnerved and found that her eyes were suddenly dry and she was blinking a bit more than she needed to. It was hard trying not to blink and it didn't help having a giant robot alien looking at her so intently.

"With my kind, our optic color reveals our allegiance. There are ways to cover it up or change it with the use of lenses but for the most part that is rare. Autobots have blue optics and Decepticons have red. When I first met Sam Witwicky and Mikaela Banes, Sam had brown optics, I mean eyes, and Mikaela had blue which led me to believe that humans' eye colors are relevant to their sex. I didn't have an opportunity to examine the other humans I encountered since I had to take care of the Allspark and my brothers. So I was confused when I saw that you had green eyes and yet you are most definitely a female." Meg nodded her understanding before explaining.

"We inherit our eye color from our parents. Which ever parent has the more dominant gene, is the parent we get our eye color from. And our hair color and skin tone. Pretty much everything that makes us us."

"What of your personalities?" At this question Meg shrugged her shoulders.

"That's kind of up in the air because scientists don't know for sure. We inherit certain characteristics from our parents, like our tempers, but we develop our own personalities as a whole by ourselves with influences from our lifestyles…" Meg trailed off before adding in horror, "Oh my God I sound just like my psychology teacher." The last part scared Meg enough that she momentarily forgot where she was and would have most likely fallen if it hadn't been for her hand on Jazz's claw.

When Meg had signed up for psychology in her junior year she had been hoping to actually learn something but instead she ended up with a teacher who read everything from a book and thought he was God's gift to undeserving students. Thoughts of being anything like him was enough to give her nightmares.

Jazz had cocked his head and smiled one of his perfectly symmetrical smiles at her comment about her teacher.

"I know that feeling. Imagine my surprise when I became a bit too enthusiastic about my firepower like my old instructor. That was enough to make my energon lines heat up."

"You're energon lines to heat up?" The term hadn't made much sense to Meg.

"It's an analogy my kind uses. When something frightens us, our mainframe begins to overwork, causing the energon lines to heat up from the exertion," Jazz casually explained.

"For us, it's the opposite. We saw, 'Our blood ran cold' or something like that when we're saying how scared we are." Jazz nodded his head and leaned slightly back, still supporting Meg.

"Our mainframes overwork in times of fear as an adaptation for battle. Our energon lines start supplying more energy to our structures and we have an overload of energy that needs to be released or at least keeps us going. If I'm correct, that experience is associated with adrenaline with your species."

"Well, when I get scared I freeze up."

"That's not very efficient," Jazz said as he gave her an odd look. Meg just raised her shoulders and bit the corner of her lip.

"What can I say? Humans can be pretty strange at times." Jazz's lack of response showed his agreement. "This is when you say something that makes humans sound not so pathetic."

"Time to go," Jazz said as he placed Meg on the ground before rising to his feet and walking away. Meg stood still for a moment before running after him.

"Jazz? Jazz! Get your giant metal ass back here! I have short legs, remember?"

"Not my fault you humans are inefficient!" he called back without even stopping or looking at Meg. The girl gave an angry cry before running as fast as she could to catch up with the Autobot.

_Why didn't I bring Valor? _she thought as she ran.

* * *


	4. Chapter 3

Meg's heart was pounding in her chest and her muscles were hard with tension as she stood on the sidewalk in front of the average looking building. She was cursing her stupidity but most of all she despised her conscience. If it hadn't been for her conscience, she wouldn't have been in the mess in the first place. But no, she had to get that nagging feeling and only one thing would free her of that guilt.

No one knew where she was, neither her mom nor Jazz, but she didn't think it was a problem. After picking up her homework, she had seen the sign and signed up for the next time she knew she would be in town. If Jeanne or Jazz had known where she was they probably would have talked her out of it. Especially Jazz because he had become rather protective of her and since he was still learning human physiology, he would just be more likely to freak out on her. As much as Jazz freaked out. Nothing could really get that Autobot out of his laid back style. But something told Meg that if Jazz knew what she was about to do, he would be making that strange, mechanical groaning noise he made whenever she did something he didn't understand. Which was kind of often.

Taking a deep breath and then letting it go, Meg did her best to center herself. Slowly she forced herself to walk into the building but there was plenty of internal conflict raging within that simple motion. Somehow she found herself walking into the hospital, following the signs pointing the way for blood donors.

* * *

It took longer getting enough energy to walk back to her car than the actual process of having a pint of blood drawn. Meg had her fair share, and then some, of cookies, fruit, and water to help her recover from the blood loss. It was hard staying for so long because the nurses had grown fond of her nervous, yet friendly, chattering before the procedure and they wanted to talk with her some more. Of course Meg's mood before donating her blood was the complete opposite from her mood after. She was barely able to restrain herself from asking for supplies to make a sign telling people to leave her the hell alone.

As Meg left she sported a giant sticker which said 'Be nice to me, I donated blood today' on her hoodie. Of course that didn't mean that she had to be nice to anyone; she had an excuse to be a brat, now that she had voluntarily let a pint of her blood be sucked out of her in a great amount of pain. Okay, it hadn't been painful but it had been just uncomfortable enough to put her into a bad mood. And this is without considering the damn finger prick at the beginning of the whole process. Child birth would be a breeze compared to that finger prick.

Meg fumbled as she tried to get her keys out of her purse. It would have been easier if her left arm wasn't completely disoriented, not to mention the bandage wrapped just below her elbow which prevented her from really using it. Just her luck, right as Meg had turned the key in the Tribute's ignition, fat raindrops started plunking down on the windshield. Meg groaned as the rain increased.

"This is what I get for listening to my conscience. Irony sucks." Meg backed out of the parking space and drove from the hospital's parking lot. She sped along the rain slicked roads with the radio singing happily. Nausea formed in her throat and threatened to take action. The longer she drove, the more demanding the nausea became. Finally it was too much and Meg pulled over to the side of the road. Meg coasted off the pavement to a turn out, the rocks and dirt rumbling beneath the SUV's tires.

It was stupid really. All of that discomfort could have been avoided but Meg was stupid because she had only had a banana before donating blood. One of the biggest rules was to eat a good meal but once again, Meg decided to not listen and do her own thing. Besides, if she had sat down to have a good meal before leaving, she would have been late. So no matter how much Meg wanted to blame someone else, she knew that her present predicament was purely her own fault.

With her forehead resting on the top of the steering wheel, Meg fumbled blindly with her right hand in search of her cell phone. When her fingers finally found it, she immediately flipped it open and, without even having to look since the number was so familiar, began calling her mom.

No one answered no matter how many times she heard the beginnings of the answering machine, hung up, and immediately redialed. She went on a seemingly never-ending cycle of dialing her mother's home, work, and cell phone numbers. Each time the voicemail started, she moved on to the next number in the rotation. After countless vain attempts to contact her mother, Meg closed the phone and carelessly tossed it onto the passenger seat.

* * *

Several boring hours had passed, most of which Meg had been sleeping through. She was still fast asleep when headlights appeared in the distance, illuminating the silver water streaks outside as they plummeted to the glistening asphalt. The car headed straight for the Tribute with Meg fast asleep inside.

The interior of the Tribute was illuminated by the headlights with an eerie light, Meg's fair skin taking on an exceedingly pale color. The girl squinted her eyes and repositioned herself so that the lights wouldn't further disturb her sleep. Somehow she managed to curl up on her side with her back against the driver's door and head tucked beneath a raised arm.

The headlights slowed down and shifted, turned, and flipped until, without missing a beat, a silver robot walked forward. A pair of headlights shone from above Jazz's swinging claws as he strode over to the silent Tribute while his brights shone from his chest. Jazz knelt down and, as gently as he possibly could, tapped on the glass Meg was leaning on. When there was no response from her, he scanned her with the little knowledge he knew from Ratchet and the Internet. He was shocked to see that she was exhausted and a fair amount of blood had vanished from her body even though there were no contusions except for an exceedingly small one on her arm.

Suddenly Jazz's CPU made the connection that the reason Meg wasn't responding was because she was in a fatally critical situation. The Autobot leaned back to assess the circumstances. Meg was in a deep recharge but she was moving and functional; Jazz didn't know enough about humans to know how critical of a situation she was in. With a single extended claw, Jazz hooked the tip so that he could open the car door. When it stayed closed, apparently it was locked, he extended a very thin shaft from the same claw-like finger between the glass and the rubber insulation. As he silently and diligently worked, his optics flicked over to check on Meg. The bright blue lights of his glances vaguely reflected back at him.

* * *

Meg was shot out of her world of sleep as she fell backwards, her surprised scream blasting from her. Something caught her and four more somethings wrapped around her. Meg stared up at the upside down and extremely worried visored face hovering above her. Her vision stopped swimming but her stomach didn't. Meg bolted from Jazz's light grasp and ran to the other side of the car. She was on her hands and knees in the mud as dry heaves racked her body. The horrendous state she was in stopped her from noticing that the rain pounding her body stopped and the sound of rain hitting metal was just above her.

Once the dry heaves stopped, Jazz ran his claw soothingly along Meg's back. He gently helped her to her feet. Meg leaned against him, her hand holding a tight grip on to his armor.

"Where is your nearest medic?" Jazz worriedly asked. It took a few moments for Meg to respond.

"The hospital is only a few miles down the road, but don't worry about it. I just came from there."

"Were you there because of your fluid loss?"

"Um, yeah. I donated blood." There was an awkward silence as Jazz tried to understand why she would give away the fluid that kept her alive and be so nonchalant about it. The moment allowed Meg to realize how close the two were and she couldn't help be awed by how gentle Jazz was being as he kept his claw resting against her back.

"Sometimes when people get hurt, they loose a lot of blood. The blood needs to be replaced which is where the blood I and others donated comes into play."

"That is very…brave of you." Meg merely shrugged her shoulders. Despite being tired, hungry, and in the rain, the sleep she was able to get had worked miracles on her attitude.

"Not really. I mean, it's uncomfortable but it's only for about ten minutes and I get free food after." Jazz thoughtfully cocked his head. He couldn't understand why she was so casual about having performed such an honorable act. It would take a dire emergency for him to even consider giving away the fluid that kept him alive. But all of the questions and puzzles racing through his processors would just have to wait until he got Meg home.

Jazz began transforming while still above her and right before he came down on his four wheels, he shifted to the side so that he settled down next to Meg. Immediately his driver's door swung open. Meg grabbed a few things from the Tribute before locking it but she paused just as she was about to get into Jazz. Her hesitancy was clear upon her face with her drawn expression, pursed lips, and wavering eyes.

The powerful engine revved slightly as the door slightly swung in a beckoning kind of way. Meg knew how sensitive Jazz was to who he let ride inside of him and the last thing she wanted was to upset him with her being wet, or nauseas or some other offense.

"Come on. You know I'm not gonna to hurt you." With the same amount of hesitancy, Meg lowered herself in. She slightly jumped when Jazz closed his door.

It was utterly bizarre for both as the Solstice performed a perfect U-turn and drove down the road. Meg sat stiffly in the seat, unbelievably self conscious at being soaking wet inside her friend. _Inside_ _her friend_. Both parts of that thought made her brain throw on the brakes. The 'inside' part as well as the 'friend' part. Were her and Jazz really friends? They must be, since he allowed her to ride inside of him. And there her mind went off once again with the 'inside' part of the revelation. It was a twisted circle that had no end in sight.

She was utterly quiet, literally twiddling her thumbs as Jazz drove along. Not bothering to use his windshield wipers since he wasn't the one who needed them to drive, the station numbers on his radio display rapidly changed as he cruised through the XM channels.

"This is so weird," Meg whispered, more to herself than to him.

"What is?" Jazz asked through all of the speakers in his interior, his deep voice literally surrounding her. Despite herself, Meg gave out a yelp and started in her seat. It was the most bizarre sensation as Meg literally felt the driver's seat tense up. There was no way to record the weirdness factor at that point.

"I'm _in_ you. I've only seen people inside one another in cartoons or bad science movies. That, and right now my mind is associating you as a car and cars just _don't_ drive themselves. Usually when the car is going solo, it means there's an accident coming and usually a bad one at that."

"Do you always ramble when you're nervous?"

"Usually. It's when I shut up that people worry."

"If it helps, this is pretty strange for me too. Before now, there has never been a reason for me to transport other beings within me. I'm a soldier, not a transporter." There was no hiding the hint of cocky pride in the last part of the statement.

"Well then, um, thanks for giving me a lift." Through the surprisingly quiet purr of the engine came something that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

"It's not like I'm gonna leave you out there like that. Besides, I don't hate having a passenger. It just…takes some gettin' used to." Meg knew that there was something else embedded into what he had said but her mind was functioning on the bare minimum and, frankly, she was too exhausted to try and figure it out.

The girl allowed herself to settle, gingerly, into the seat and closed her eyes. Suddenly a smile played over her lips as if she was thinking of some private joke. Before Jazz could ask, which Meg knew he was about to and she was right, the girl spoke up.

"At least you don't have to worry about me ever driving you."

"Why?" There were two conflicting emotions that were so obvious in that one word. Jazz wasn't sure if she wouldn't be driving him because she didn't feel comfortable enough, if she thought he wouldn't let her, or because she just didn't want to. The mech was unsure if he should be insulted, disappointed, or relieved. Meg still had her eyes closed when she answered.

"I don't know how to drive stick. And there is _no_ way I'm gonna try and learn with you. It was embarrassing enough with my dad and the old truck…that poor, _poor_ old truck."

Meg's eyes snapped open as she heard clicking and metal shifting against metal. She looked to where the main source of the sound was coming from on the center console and saw the last movements as the manual transmission shifted into an automatic.

"You…you can just randomly make changes like that?"

"I wasn't about to find out how that truck felt." There was that strange snorting again. How he managed to pull that off without actually having a nose, or even lungs, completely evaded Meg.

"Are you hinting towards something?"

"Yup. I want you to drive." With that said Jazz stopped controlling his movements and let his body coast down the wet pavement, his speed lagging off. His steering wheel stopped its smooth movements and was slowly drifting off to the left.

"I'm honored and all but I think I'm going to have to take a rain check." Meg paused and repressed a groan at her unintentional pun before continuing, "I'm exhausted, not thinking straight, it's raining, and…I'm sure there are more _really _good reasons, I just can't think of them right now."

"One of us is gonna to be drivin' home, and it's not gonna be me," Jazz playfully said. Meg could hear the smile in his voice even though at the moment he had no mouth to smile with. He may have played off the façade that he wasn't in control but he actually was. Good thing for his alt mode's fast maneuverability and brakes.

"If I mess up you'd be hurt, not me."

"Sorry, but you're a whole lot more fragile than I am." Meg's eyebrows quirked up.

"You would never let me get hurt. You proved that when you came looking for me tonight."

"Exactly. I won't let you get hurt. Now take my steering wheel before I drift off the road. I don't want any mud and rocks up goin' up into my undercarriage." To emphasize that he let Rihanna sing a few choice lines from her song "Shut Up and Drive", and then changed it before Meg could respond.

Hesitantly Meg straightened up so that she could drive. Her fingertips rested on the bottom of the wheel before settling on the smooth realistic leather. She squinted her eyes so that she could see through the rain trodden windshield and muttered something about the windshield wipers. Jazz told her where the lever was and let out one of his rolling laughs as she softly flipped it up and ever so gently adjusted the speed.

"Damn girl, give me some credit. I'm not gonna just break. No offense but you ain't nearly strong enough." Meg gave him a playfully snubbed look, which was hard considering she didn't have his face to direct it at, before attempting to settle down.

She took a deep breath even though she knew it would make Jazz laugh again, which it did, but his laughter never offended nor embarrassed it her. He was one of those who laughed _with _others and _never_ at them. For being a robot, he had a very distinct connection to emotions. He knew how to work with them, without manipulating them, so that she would be calm or happy or content. Jazz himself was more expressive than several people Meg knew. It was something that baffled her considering he was so calm all the time and yet he was still able to show what he was feeling. Without having known him for very long, Meg already knew that there really was no understanding Jazz and to try would only lead to an aneurism.

The responsiveness when she pressed down on the accelerator was astounding. She doubted that even a NASCAR racecar would be as responsive. Letting a low 'Holy shit,' escape from her, Meg concentrated on driving the Pontiac Solstice. She knew that if any unsuspecting person somehow ended up driving Jazz, they would immediately know that he wasn't just any car bought at some dealership. There was just too much power.

Jazz was surprised by how much he was enjoying having a driver. There was something unique and satisfying in it. He was never intended to come to this planet, take on a mode of transportation as camouflage, or have someone drive him. But the more he thought about it, the more he thought that although he may have not thought himself intended to come to Earth and meet Meg, he was meant to. Like it was his fate to have this curve ball of a fiasco thrown at him. He would like to have avoided the being ripped in half part but if that had never happened, then he would have never met Meg.

With his interior visuals he observed the girl; the dwindling tension, the small smile, her watchful eyes. He could feel her relaxing, settling against him, and he took joy in that sensation. He could feel the minutest movements she made and let himself respond to the tiniest pressures she gave as she steered him along the suddenly winding road. Her movements were soft, fluid, and considerate. She never used more pressure or guidance than what was needed; just enough to hint, to request, what she wanted.

"Hm, I wonder if I could go into recharge while you drive," he teased bemusedly.

"Don't you dare! If you do, I don't give a shit, I'm climbing into the passenger seat." Jazz tightened the seat belt around her as if to say, 'Just try it'. He didn't have to give the smirk to have its presence felt.

It was then that it dawned on Jazz that this was why Valor was so willing to allow Meg to ride him. The horse and Autobot were similar in that they were far larger and more powerful than Meg. But they still did as she asked. Not because Valor was forced to and, Primus knew, when it came down to it, there was no conceivable way for a human to force Jazz to do anything. All he had to do to stop Meg from driving was simply not respond to her. But he didn't want to do that. Because there was no force behind her. She _asked_ and she _guided_. Just as she did with Valor. Before Jazz would have been insulted upon finding a commonality with an animal but at this point he didn't mind. It helped him understand.

With having gone through one epiphany, another one hit him. This is what felt so wrong upon having been revived. Not only had he had been _forced _back without it mattering whether he wanted to come back or not, but he had lost that connection with his comrades. There was no way they could ever understand what he had gone through, no matter how much they tried. It was no ones fault that he was so messed up upon coming back and no one could hold any part of the blame. It was just a result, an outcome. What made it so horrible, loosing that connection with his comrades, was that they were the only ones left who he had a connection with. Without that relation, he was…alone. Just like he had been when he was dead. In a sense, Jazz realized, he was still dead. That is until he had met Meg.

Meg was completely different from anything he had ever encountered before. She was a fresh start, a chance to form a new connection. One that will help him ground himself in this second chance at life. He felt that connection as she drove him. It was there and it was solid and he was no longer searching for something he hadn't even realized he had lost.

As the pair arrived home and Jeanne rushed out to demand where her daughter had been, Jazz let his driver out. He discreetly pushed into Meg's palm when she rested her hand on his hood as she tried to come up with an excuse as to why she had left in the Tribute and had come back in the Solstice. If he wasn't so caught up in his revelation, Jazz would have been holding back his laughter at Meg's fumbling answers. Eventually the girl was able to call a time-out by mentioning how she donated blood. It sent her mother on a whole new tirade about how Meg could make a decision like that when she was under-aged without letting her mother know. At least it gave Meg some time to come up with an excuse for the magic trick with the cars.

After the verbal tennis and then postponing the match with her mother, Meg got back into Jazz and went over to the stable to back him in. Jeanne was marching back into the house, muttering vehemently about the frustrations of having a teenager.

"So far I've come up with the Tribute crapped out on me a couple miles from home earlier today but since I still had the appointment at the hospital to keep and homework to pick up, I walked back home, got you, and went into town," Meg said as she got out. Jazz closed his door behind her and then rolled down his window so he could speak to her.

"What about you comin' home so late?"

"Oh, yeah." The girl frowned, trying to come up with a cover up for that one too. Jazz smiled. It was so much more fun using his talent of deception to keep parents in the dark rather than acting as a spy in the midst of enemy ranks. Depending on how deep he got, it could be just as dangerous though.

"Go with the truth. You reacted badly to donatin' your blood."

"Eh, I guess. That'll only piss her off more, though." Meg bit the corner of her lip as she weighed her options.

"Better than completely lyin' to her. She won't be so mad if she finds out the truth."

"You better hope that she doesn't find out the truth because that means she knows about you."

As a response, Jazz just flashed his lights at her. She smiled and wished him goodnight. She paused briefly to scratch Valor's cheek before closing the stable doors behind her. Jazz kept his sensors trained on his driver, his audios picking up her footsteps as they squished into the mud toward the house. Even though she was further away, he still felt that warm connection with her. Finally, _finally_, he was able to start over.

"I can see why you love her so much, Valor." The horse merely flicked an elegant grey ear towards Jazz before concentrating all his attention once again on the door Meg had left through, his liquid brown eyes anticipating. Within moments, the door was cracked open and Meg was slipping through. She jogged past Jazz and into the tack room where she pulled Trouble out from beneath the saddle rack. Stooping low to keep her hold on the dog's collar, Meg went around Jazz's front to where Valor was still waiting with his head and neck over the stable door. She released her hold on Trouble as she scratched Valor's forehead, ruffling his long black forelock. With a swift kiss on the nose, she then brushed her hand against Jazz's hood.

"Night Jazz!" she cried as she grabbed Trouble's collar before he could run off. Valor nickered and then she was gone as quickly as she had come.

Valor sighed, contented that his girl was done for the night. Then, as if he was acknowledging what Jazz had said before Meg had returned, the Andalusian brushed his charcoal muzzle along Jazz's roof before retreating back into his stall.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, reads, and adds. One thing I'm kind of worried about with this story is depicting Jazz. He really is confusing. One that I noticed when I watched the movie was that when he's in front of the humans, he uses slang but otherwise he's pretty professional. So when the situation is serious, so was he. For some reason its hard grasping that because its like, so how much slang would he really use if he had been given more lines. Agh, I think he's gonna give me an anuerism. Please let me know if I got it right or if you have any suggestions on making it better._**


	5. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: Thank you to all of the reviews, adds, and reads! Some language warning.**_

* * *

Jazz was in love. There was no other way to describe that overwhelming sensation flooding through his circuitry. It started in his audios were the rest of his sensory systems shut down to enhance his audios' effects. This sensation, this feeling, consumed him to the point were he could forget everything else if he wanted. He was able to explore every aspect of his emotions.

When Meg walked out of the house and over to him as he sat beneath an oak tree, Jazz couldn't stop himself from revving his engine at the sight of her. Oh, was he in deep. Hearing Jazz, Meg stopped in her tracks with her laptop tucked beneath an arm. She eyed him warily, unsure of what was going on with his more than enthusiastic greeting.

"Hey," she chirped. "You must have been pretty bored. It didn't take me _that_ long to do my homework." Jazz stood up and closed the distance between them before kneeling down, one of his clawed hands bracing himself on the ground beside the girl. After several weeks of knowing him Meg was gradually getting used to his lack of understanding about personal space.

"You have the music, right?" Meg smiled in response, laughing, and nodded her head. Ever since he had heard Meg playing her music when she had been taking care of the animals in the barn, Jazz had been absolutely fascinated. With the promise that she would bring out her laptop that had all of her music after she finished her homework, Jazz had sat beneath the oak listening to the frequencies he picked up from satellite radio.

Jazz was more than content listening to the XM radio but he wanted to know more, things he couldn't learn from just listening. He had briefly encountered music during the years that he and his comrades had been waiting for Bumblebee to find Sam but it hadn't been wise for him to listen. Not only would the music potentially clog up the frequencies but also it would have meant hacking into the satellites and possibly attracting unwanted human and Decepticon attention. It was one thing to learn about language, dialects, and culture since that was a necessity, but music was just a supplement. He was only able to listen to it enough to come across jazz and thus his name.

When he finally came to Earth, Jazz was a bit too preoccupied crash landing, trying to find the Allspark, dealing with those insolent human government officials (whom he still had a debt to settle after what happened with Bee), and then racing to a human city within which he battled Megatron, ultimately getting ripped in half. After he had been revived, he just hadn't been his music-fascinated self.

The one thing Jazz had learned about human music was that it meant something and had stories behind it that the music he had come across before didn't have. Human music was an integral part of Earth culture. Jazz was in love with music and he wanted to learn as much as he could about it. And music was too complex to rely on the Internet for this education. He needed to go straight to the source.

Meg ushered Jazz back over beneath the oak tree where he sat down. The low, ancient tree took the weight of his multi-ton bulk as he leaned against the wood, the dappled light playing over his metallic body. Two of the thick branches dove to the ground before leveling out, creating a natural seat for someone Meg's size. Jazz helped the girl up onto one of the branches that held her up at the same height as his chest. Meg carefully balanced her laptop on her lap knowing full well that there would be no replacement if it fell and broke.

Jazz's eagerness to hear the music Meg had on her laptop eased her. She nearly broke out into laughter with his dwindling patience with how long it took for her "primitive" laptop to boot up. As soon as her music program was running, Meg started off with her favorite genre. The smooth, flowing rhythms of R&B/soul floated through speakers, captivating them with songs of love and loss. From there they went to pop, which was presently similar to R&B, as she played a popular television contest winner. Just to throw him off and get a reaction, she played some boy and girl bands from the 1990's.

"Even though I would never admit it to my friends, the Spice Girls and boy bands actually make pretty good music…But that is _never_ going to be repeated, okay?" Jazz just gave a quiet laugh.

The passing hours were spent listening and learning about non-twangy country music, blood-pumping rock, annoying yet catchy techno, the relatable and slightly confusing lyrics of alternative, the insane energy of reggae, ancient Celtic, soothing yet powerful classical, hip-hop that could hypnotize the body to take over and dance, and of course, jazz. All of the music was appreciated but R&B/soul and hip-hip absolutely captivated Jazz. When Meg would play the songs he was quiet, a contemplative smile on his face. Meg would bob her head to the rhythm of her favorite songs, tapping her fingers against whatever surface her hand happened to be resting on.

Jazz was hooked. He wanted to hear every single song, or at least every single album, and know the background. Meg told him everything she could. She even explained the whole concept of dance. Jazz was confused when Meg told him that every human knew how to dance, it was just about whether or not they would let their inhibitions go so that their body could move along with the music.

"It's all about the beat. Once you can find the beat, your body just moves." It was just that not everyone knew how to be _good_ at dancing (Meg had living proof of that with her brother) but everyone knew _how_ to dance. It took a couple of tries to explain the difference to Jazz but he got it.

"What about rap?" was the next question. The girl knew that he would eventually ask about that particular genre. It was so popular and so widely heard that she knew he would have encountered it. The problem wasn't that Meg didn't like rap. She didn't like it as much as R&B and hip-hop but she did like it a lot. The problem was that the vast majority of rap was about sex, drugs, money, and gang violence. Men who held fast cars in higher esteem than women and held their baby in one hand and a gun in the other. How could Meg introduce a true warrior like Jazz to rappers who called themselves soldiers for the daily battles over territory, drugs, and vengeance that occurred out on the streets?

"I have some rap but…" Meg trailed off, not sure how to continue. Rap was not exactly the best flag ship for humanity. She did have some rhymes from veteran artists and other artists who frowned on their gang-associated comrades and whose talent completely overshadowed the violent artists'. Shaking her head, she began thinking up the disclaimer.

"Okay, the thing is, rap is pretty good. At least I think so. A lot of people don't like it but it's still really popular. Personally, I think it's an art form. If you've ever listened to someone freestyling, it's incredible. The way they can create rhymes and a rhythm right off the top of their head is absolutely insane and not many people can do it.

"But…fame tends to…to get to rappers' egos. They get into pretty bad shi-, I mean stuff, just so they can keep a so-called reputation. I usually won't listen to those raps but they're pretty hard to avoid. I'm just asking you to please not judge humans by some of the raps you're gonna hear."

"Don't worry girl, after meeting people like you it's gonna take a lot more than egotistical slaggers to make me think bad of you." There was a confused pause.

"Slaggers?" Jazz winced as he realized what exactly he had said and he knew that Meg had recognized the relevance of the word by his response. The mech knew that profanity was taboo in human culture.

"That's a curse word, isn't it?" she asked, smugly trying to stop herself from smiling.

"So you gonna play the music?" Meg bit the corner of her lip to try and get her smile under control. She may pretend to forget that word but she was planning on saving that little tidbit to use it if she ever needed to.

Still trying not to smile, Meg scrolled down to a song that she thought Jazz would appreciate. It was still popular even though it had been released several months before. A mechanical voice sang the chorus from the laptop's speakers just before the famous rapper began the lyrics, the genius beat flowing. Out of habit Meg raised the volume and bobbed her head, eyes closed. The more she listened to the song, the more she realized how much it applied to Jazz. It was about overcoming obstacles, becoming stronger, and living one's life to the fullest. Not to mention the techno influence, as well as the somewhat robotic voice in the background that was a little similar to Jazz's voice.

There was a slight shift and the branch Meg was sitting on swayed a bit. The girl opened her eyes, and saw Jazz walking out from under the shady branches of the oak and onto level ground. The dried out brown leaves that had fallen from the oaks crunched under his massive feet. To her utter disbelief, Jazz started dancing.

The sun radiated off of his chrome armor as he moved along with the beat of the music. Carefully holding her laptop, Meg climbed down from the tree so that she could see Jazz better. He smiled as he was locking with the beat, his feet gliding along the ground through the leaves. His movements were fluid, smooth, and Meg was sure that he would have been one of the top competitors on the popular dance crew competition playing on TV.

If anyone had mentioned a giant robot dancing to Meg, she would have laughed out loud. It would have seemed more like a funny video someone would make and post on Youtube. Although Meg was laughing, it was out of pure delight and awe at how Jazz was able to move as if he was a human dancer. The girl almost dropped her laptop when the mech dropped down and performed a perfect flare before stopping in a mind blowing, gravity defying freeze. From the freeze he seamlessly went up into an air flare, something Meg had never seen in person before. One of the most noticeable things about the Autobot, though, was the smug smile he wore. As the song came down to an end, Jazz somehow ended up on his feet, did some popping and then ran forward and into a perfect backflip. He landed in a crouch, head playfully cocked and his clawed fingers around his chin. His blue optics were literally twinkling as he looked over at Meg.

As soon as the song blended into the next track, Jazz stood up and walked back to the oak and sat down where he had been sitting before.

"Jazz! That was _amazing_!" The mech smiled, laughing, as he soaked in Meg's praise. "That was killer! I had no idea that you could dance like that. I mean, it makes sense I guess and I haven't known you for very long but at the same time…holy crap! I think you did every style of dance, even the Crypt walk. And then that back flip!" Jazz just laughed again.

"I was watching some of those dance competitions on the Internet. All of those moves, I just replicated from what I saw and listened to the beat like you said."

"You…are so cool."

"Yeah, I know."

"Aren't you humble?" Meg laughed, causing Jazz to smile. "But I think you did every single hip-hop move. Well, except for-"

"Except for what?"

"Nothing," was the quick reply.

"Tell me what I didn't do and I bet you I can do it."

"I know you could probably do it but there are some things that should just be left to humans… And booty shaking is one of them." Jazz was quiet for a moment as he looked up booty shaking. Meg grimaced as she thought of all the junk he was looking at. His optics widened as he watched the on-line video. He had no idea humans could move their body parts so fast. His structure was not built for anything like it and there was no way that _he_ could personally pull off the dance move. A wicked idea formed in his processor.

"I can do that," he said as he got back up. Gripping her laptop Meg chased after him as he walked back out from under the tree.

"No, absolutely not. I will never be able to take you seriously ever again if you do it." Meg fought away the mental image of Jazz booty shaking.

"Come on, Megs. If you can do it, I can do it." Jazz didn't even bother looking back at her, knowing he'd crack if he saw her expression.

"Just because I can," Meg momentarily faltered having realized her mistake, "doesn't mean that you should." But Jazz heard the falter and he pounced.

"So you know how to do it," he asked, spinning around to face her. For a brief moment she thought of denying it but saw there was no use. So she went for the old fashioned strategy: avoidance.

"Damn. My battery is almost dead. I need to go charge my laptop before it crashes." When she began walking off, Jazz stepped in her way. He backed up so that he could see her better.

"Come on, just do it." Meg slowly and over-exaggerated her 'no'. There was no way that she was ever going to show Jazz booty shaking. He had the Internet for that. Juggling the laptop, she turned it off and closed it.

Clutching the computer close, she stood stock still before faking a right. When Jazz slid to the right, she darted between his legs while praying he wouldn't step on her. There was no way she could outrun him. But she did have a chance of making it to the oak tree next to the one they had been under. The neighboring tree had branches that touched the ground, creating a little room beneath the boughs. The branches were too low and close together for Jazz to get through. But Meg was easily able to get in between them, and get in between them she did. She darted through the branches just as a claw was about to grab her. Jazz muttered something in a different language as Meg set herself on an upraised root.

"Actually, I think the battery still has some power. Time for solitaire."

"You can't outwait me," Jazz called. She could barely seem him shifting on the other side of the wall of branches and leaves, circling the tree in search of an opening.

"I know. Good thing my mom is going to be home in half an hour." Jazz knelt down to reach into the tree but quickly pulled his arm back when he heard the branches scratching his armor. It would take a lot for him to purposefully scratch his armor and this was not one of those reasons.

Thirty minutes later Meg was laying down with her laptop propped up on her upraised knees, her head resting on Trouble. The Doberman had wandered under the tree in search of his girl with Jazz muttering something about 'traitor'. Meg knew that her mom was home when she heard Jazz's heavy footsteps fading away.

When she came out from under the tree, she saw her mom walking into the house and Jazz innocently parked beside the truck. Meg walked toward the house with her laptop tucked under an arm and Trouble by her side. She gave a sweet smile as she passed the Solstice with plenty of distance between them.

_You've got me so hypnotized_

_ The way your body rollin' round and round_

_ Booty just bumpin'_

_ Booty just bouncin' up and down_

Meg just laughed, shaking her head even when she had reached the porch and by then Jazz had changed to a different song. With a quick glance, Meg saw that her mom wasn't around to see or hear any of the antics. Jazz had started playing one of the most popular hip-hop songs and Meg couldn't resist it. Placing her laptop down on the floor boards, she swayed as she waited for the line and then dropped down along with the beat.

_Shorty had the apple bottom jeans_

_Boots with the fur (with the fur)_

_The whole club was lookin' at her_

_She hit the floor (she hit the floor)_

_Next thing you know_

_Shorty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low_

Meg hadn't done the infamous dance move Jazz wanted but she was so low that she was nearly parallel to the wooden boards of the porch, her feet beneath her and on their arches. As she was getting up and grabbed her laptop, Jazz cut off the song and his alarm started blaring with a honking horn and flashing lights. Without looking over her shoulder at him, Meg flashed the peace sign with her free hand and disappeared into the house.

* * *

Meg spun around, the seat belt clinging to her as she stared out Jazz's back window. The back of the stop sign the Solstice had ignored became smaller as they sped away. A horn angrily blared as a small green sedan who had been at the stop sign before Jazz, made a right turn, going the opposite way down the road. The girl had a bit of vertigo as she quickly righted herself in the driver's seat. No one was on the road to notice Jazz's lack of following the laws and Meg's momentary lack of driving.

"Didn't you see that stop sign?" Meg hissed at the dashboard.

"Yeah. That guy was already stopped and I didn't want to bother," Jazz's deep voice told her.

"_That isn't the point_. If a cop had seen that, I'd be getting a major ticket. No wait, you aren't registered _or_ insured so I'd be completely, totally, and utterly fucked."

"Ever since I slipped up, you've been cursin' a lot." Meg's new leniency of words was something that made up for Jazz slipping.

"I curse when I'm given a good reason to and you getting pulled over is a _really_ good reason."

"I haven't been pulled over and its not gonna happen. Relax, I've got it under control." Meg threw her hands up in exasperation, letting herself fall back against the seat. The steering wheel continued moving on of its own accord, the Autobot insignia pivoting with the movments.

"Have you even read the DMV's handbook?" There was a long pause that gave away Jazz's answer before he could. "Oh my God, you don't know how to drive and you're disguised as a _car_. How have you managed not to get pulled over by now?"

"I have a knack for scrambling frequencies." Meg stared dumbly at the dashboard and then turned her attention to look out the windshield. There was no way Jazz was always going to avoid the attention of the police, especially with those new traffic cameras. It was up to her to teach him how to drive.

* * *

Since there was no way to prove that Jazz would go over the on-line booklet, Meg made him stop by the local DMV in town. Then during the whole ride home, Meg read the handbook that was deceptively slim.

"Why are you doin' this to me?" Amazingly that laid back tone was still there. If anything, he seemed even more amused. The girl lowered the booklet slightly.

"Because at this rate, your cocky little self is going to get caught. If you're alone then you're screwed because you'll be revealed. If I'm with you, then I'm screwed because I don't have the money to pay off the tickets not to mention the damage it'll do to my driving record."

"I'm not gonna be gettin' caught."

"Whoever arrives at the stop sign is the first to leave," Meg read aloud upon raising the booklet back up. "If two cars arrive at the same time, which ever car is on the right is the one who goes first." Jazz's engine groaned. He was tempted to tune his driver out by listening to some music but Meg threatened that she would hide the water hose so he couldn't wash off if he ignored her. And she would know the next time they went out for a drive if he had ignored her by whether or not he followed the laws. The girl was proving to be worse than his formatters back on Cybertron. At least back then he was able to ditch the sessions. So he was forced to pay attention. It really was endearing that she was looking out for him but at the same time it was so slagging boring.

About half an hour later, Meg lightly tossed the finished booklet onto the passenger seat. Jazz had plans of using it for target practice once he was back at the ranch. They were parked on a turn out of a two lane canyon road, the rocky abyss stretching out in front and to the right side of them. While Meg had been reading, Jazz had gotten a motion in his processor. After all of the grief she had given him about his bad driving, he needed to know about _her_ driving record. The mech was excellent with multi-tasking so while he had been listening, he also hacked into the DMV. He wasn't willing to download the on-line driving booklet from the website but by Primus he'd gladly hack in to entertain himself.

Jazz already knew that teenagers were infamously bad drivers, with them having that belief of immortality and their need to break the laws. He was expecting Meg to be no different. To his astonishment, Meg's driving record was spotless. Not even a citation. He knew that Meg was no perfect angel when it came to driving from personal experience. She was almost always at least five miles over the speed limit and at all of the stop signs she would never come to a complete stop before hitting the accelerator at stop. Granted, she never ignored the stop signs or qualified for being pulled over for reckless driving unlike himself. Jazz recognized that the girl was a bit hypocritical for making such a big deal out of his driving but she was right in that he had far more to risk than a ticket if he were to be caught.

The owner of the perfect record was quietly staring out the passenger window at the canyon that stretched out around them.

"Why don't you have any tickets or citations?" Meg's attention snapped back, her green eyes regaining focus.

"Why do you know my driving record?"

"Answer my question first." Meg smirked as she thought of her answer.

"I got my driver's license the summer I was living with my aunt, uncle, and cousins out in the San Fernando Valley. If you can handle Valley drivers and pedestrians, you can handle _anything_."

"Why were you living out there?" Meg's smirk turned into a sweet smile.

"Nope, you answer my question first." Not bothering to argue, Jazz complied.

"Besides being a lieutenant, I am, or was since my team isn't here, in charge of special operations, namely sabotage. Hacking is part of the job description."

"Transforming, breakdancing, sabotage, hacking. Is there anything you can't do?"

"Besides bootyshaking, no. But since you can do that, I'd say we're a pretty well rounded team."

Meg broke into hysterics, laughing so hard that she lost her breath. Jazz became worried by the tears forming in her eyes but she waved him off since she couldn't tell him that she was all right. It took several minutes for her to recover and even then she would let out a little giggle every now and then. If Jazz could, he would have been smiling. Mechs were never that forward with their emotions and it was refreshing to see Meg so expressive. It was weird, but refreshing all the same.

"To answer your question, I was tired of the country so I went off for the summer to spend time with my extended family. The Valley isn't exactly a city, but it was good enough. It does people good to get away for a little while." Jazz slightly bobbed on his wheels in agreement.

* * *

Jazz sat in his vehicle mode, basking in the sun. Jeanne was home and doing something within the house while Meg was riding Valor in the lush paddock besides the barn. It was interesting watching the pair ride together. Meg's signals to the horse were nearly invisible so it seemed like they were one creature rather than two. She had set up a jump with two barrels and plank of wood and the pair were thoroughly enjoying themselves by jumping the obstacles.

_Humans enjoy the simplest things_, Jazz thought.

It was late in the afternoon and the day would soon be coming to a close. The setting sun cast vibrant shafts of light down on to Earth, covering everything in a dusty gold. Everything seemed to glow, especially the horse and rider playing in the paddock. Earth's beauty was profound and Jazz would always be thankful that not only Bumblebee had asked to stay but that Optimus had agreed.

An alert came on in Jazz's communication circuit, asking permission to open up a private frequency with Optimus. Without any hesitancy, Jazz granted permission. He hoped that he wasn't being called to take care of Decepticons but if his brothers needed him, he would immediately leave the haven he had found.

**What's up Optimus? **Jazz asked in his familiar native language.

** Things are all quiet here but not for long. We just received word of two incoming protoforms. Ratchet's favorite pair of twins are due to land soon.**

** I'm sure Bumblebee is excited and Ironhide has already set his cannons at full blast. **Optimus chuckled, glad to hear Jazz's humor again. Apparently his little vacation was doing him good.

**You're right. However Bee is concerned about Sam and Mikaela's safety. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are not the most…conscious of mechs. And it does not help that the humans are so physically fragile.** Jazz silently agreed, his visual sensors trained on Meg. He was always overly careful with the human girl and he was glad he didn't have to worry about the twins endangering her.

**The only reason I'm alerting you**, Optimus continued, **is that the twins will be unable to land in the vicinity of the base without attracting too much attention. From your last communiqué I see that you are still in the more rural countryside. I'm going to order them to change their landing site to where you are and I need you to run interception. **There goes not worrying about the twins and Meg.

**You've got it Optimus. What should I do with the Twin Terrors?**

** Escort them back to base. They are excellent warriors but… **Optimus trailed off. There was no simple way to explain the pair and the more he would think about their past actions, the more he would dread their arrival.

** No need to explain**, Jazz spoke up.There was a long pause from Optimus. Jazz waited patiently, already having an idea as to what was about to be said.

**I apologize that I'm calling you back Jazz. If you want to return to where you're residing once you're done, you may. You must be very fond of the girl for you to be staying in one place for so long. Especially since it's so rural.**

** Don't worry about it. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would have been abusin' Bee so bad that he'd prolly overload and Hatchet and our mechanoid Clint Eastwood would be knocking those two into stasis before they even get out of the craters. And I know Meg will understand. She's chill like that.**

** I'm glad that you're up for this. Especially since you're the only one here who will be able to handle them.**

** Come on, I know you can take 'em Optimus. **Optimus sighed which amused Jazz.

**I know I can but I had Prowl mostly deal with them instead of me for a reason. There's only so much I can take with those two.**

** Well, we're gonna be needin' Primus' help in keepin' those two in line.**

** Jazz, I think we're going to be needing more than Primus' help. The humans have no idea what they're in for.**

* * *

Meg had her freshly washed hair over her shoulder, absentmindedly braiding it for the night. She sat on the swinging bench suspended from the back porch's overhang, one of her feet propped up on the porch banister to push the swing. Thousands of pinpricks sparkled against the cobalt sky, the crescent moon glowing softly. Meg finished the braid and flipped her hair over her back. A soft meow came from beside her as Zoe leaped up onto the swing. The calico purred as she rubbed the side of her face against Meg's bare arm. The teenager picked Zoe up and cradled the purring cat in her arms. Zoe had her brown eyes closed, twisting her head so that Meg could scratch her all over the gold, black, and white head.

The night wasn't that cold but Meg was thankful to feel Zoe's soft, warm fur. She missed Jazz already and was eager to hear from him soon. There was no doubt that one day that Jazz was going to move on or go back to his fellow Autobots but Meg was still sad that that day had finally come. Jazz had promised to keep in contact with her and Meg knew that she could trust that promise.

Staring up at the night sky, Meg pushed the swing slowly back and forth. Jazz had said that she would be able to see the incoming Autobots from the back porch. At first she had wanted to go with the silver mech but he explained that he didn't want her to come because the Decepticons may try to intercept the new arrivals. That and apparently the new Autobots were a bit…unruly.

Two of the pinpricks were steadily growing bigger and brighter. Meg's fingers slowed down until they finally froze above Zoe's head. The lights became brighter as they sped across the night sky. There were two loud sonic booms that rattled the glas windows. The lights were streaking downward, having become what looked like fiery comets plummeting down. Jazz had explained to Meg that what she was looking at were the actual forms of the Autobots and Meg could not understand how they were able to put up with the fiery temperatures and landing. Her already grand respect for Jazz was steadily growing.

Standing up with Zoe still in her arms, Meg walked across the porch as she followed the protoforms' trails. They were virtually side by side but either one of them would pull further forward, jostling to be ahead. It was if they were racing. The living shooting stars raced out of sight behind the horizon. A few moments later, there was a huge impact that seemed to shake the very air. Not much later the second impact was felt.

* * *

**_Author's Note__: I was kind of on the fence about whether or not Jazz and Meg would become involved but then I decided not to. I haven't read any stories in which Jazz is the main character and it doesn't become a romance with the OC. So I decided to give Jazz a girl who's a friend and not a _girlfriend****_. Sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping for that. But that decision kind of fueled the first few paragraphs. As for the twins, they are up there on my favorite list so of course I had to bring them in. And I just had this mental image of Meg all scared and going, "Jazz! The twins are being nice to me!" Weird and random, I know, but I'm planning on having a lot of fun with this foursome. Oh, and for the driving thing, 1) I had to write it b/c it occurred to me as I was driving about how ironic it would be if the Autobots didn't know how to drive and 2) I practically live in the San Fernando Valley and I bet I could hold my own in a monster car derby because of it. If you can drive in the Valley, you can drive ANYWHERE. Just felt like sharing that. And also (I know, I know, long author's note) the two songs were "Hypnotized" by Plies feat. Akon and "Low" by Flo Rida. I changed the lyrics a bit for Hypnotized b/c the second 'booty' was actually something I personally find profane and didn't want to add. If you're interested in looking up the dance moves Jazz was doing, they're absolutely amazing and you can find them on Youtube. But please, do yourself a favor and don't look up bootyshaking. It will scar you. Oh, and I don't own Youtube (obviously. But how cool would it be if I did?! I'd be so rich!!)_**


	6. Chapter 5

**_Author's Note: It's been a while I know. Thank you for the reviews, reads, and hits! For people who are reading "A New Day", no I haven't forgotten it. I'm about three-quarters through the chapter. That story will be next to be updated...hopefully._**

**_Foal: A baby horse. Very cute. Very fuzzy._**

**_Cowboy breaking: Infamous and, in my opinion, very cruel. It's a way of training a horse to be ridden. It's called 'cowboy breaking' one, because it's a method that cowboys had/do use and two, breaking refers to breaking the horse's spirit. One of the methods used is to tie the horse to a vertical pole with one leg tied up to make it fall when it struggles. The horse struggles until it gives in. There are other parts although I don't know the full details of those methods and frankly I don't want to know nor do I wish to share them. There are other ways of training horses that are not cruel or harmful at all for the horse or rider and not all cowboys 'break' horses. My grandpa was a cowboy and the horse he had trained and gave to me was not broken in any way so, once again, not all cowboys break their horses. Also, the term 'breaking' a horse is somewhat synonomous with training a horse. It's confusing but when someone says they're breaking a horse they aren't necessarily saying that they cowboy broke the horse as in, broke the horse's spirit. Horseback riding is about forming a bond with a horse and working together, willingly, as a team, not beating it into submission. Alright my rant is over._**

* * *

Jazz crouched below an oak tree, staring intensely into the still smoking crater. Slowly he shifted so that he was standing on the very lip, his sensors spreading as far as they could reach to catch any unwanted visitors. His blue visor was glowing in the dark night and his battle mask was in place, just in case. He had been able to relax with the time spent with Meg but it didn't take much to bring back old battle-hardened habits.

Below him in the crater, the oblong protoform began shifting. Jazz braced himself, ready for anything. The thin silver form rose up, scrambling up the steep side of the crater. It froze the moment that it saw Jazz. It stumbled backward, a minute missile launcher unfolding on top of his left shoulder. Jazz crouched down.

"_Autobot Jazz. First Lieutenant of Prime's Elite,"_ the lieutenant called out. The protoform withdrew his missile launcher. When he tried to come all the way out of the crater, he stumbled and fell into the freshly plowed up earth. Jazz ran forward and grabbed the new arrivals' wrist to keep him from falling any further down. Even though the unknown twin was taller than Ironhide, Jazz fairly picked him up, slinging him over his back, and dragged him up from the crater.

Once on top, the two fell into a jumbled heap of metal. The protoform groaned in pain, the many frayed edges of his armor sparking. Jazz knelt down over the newcomer and observed the damage. His right arm was barely hanging on, the main support structure visible from within the sparking wires and dried molten metal. The other damage was rather superficial and he could heal on his own. However, the damage was enough to prevent him from taking on an alt mode and therefore, there was no way they could travel back to the Autobots' base.

"_Jazz, I'd recognize you anywhere_," the protoform said wearily in their native language, trying his hardest to add cheerfulness to his voice. Jazz raised up his visor and coolly crossed his arms, shoulders slanted.

"_Because of my kick ass style and smooth moves?"_ The new mech tried raising himself upward, bracing himself on Jazz.

"_No. Because you're still so short._" Jazz scowled up at the protoform. Always with the short jokes. He would never admit it but he couldn't tell which twin it was; the protoforms were the most basic state and Jazz hadn't seen the twins for a long time.

"_Play nice. You don't exactly have fanfare waitin' for you. Especially with Ratchet since you are really needin' his expertise right now._" It didn't matter which twin he was with at the moment, neither of their arrivals were being looked forward to.

"_Aw, come on Jazz! Everyone loves me. It's Sunstreaker that frags everyone off."_That answered the question on who the mech in front of him was.

Jazz shook his head and helped Sideswipe to his feet. The taller mech stumbled a bit but was able to walk along on his own. He refused any more help Jazz, his ego not as big as Sunstreaker's but still very much there.

_"All right. Let's go get everyone's favorite ray of sunshine,"_ Jazz muttered, Sideswipe limping behind him.

* * *

Jazz led the way through the countryside, the hills not making the journey any faster for the injured melee warriors following behind. The silver lieutenant only had to interrupt their bickering once to keep them from breaking into a full on fight. It didn't matter how badly damaged they were, the pair would still manage to get themselves into an all out brawl. It was what made them the best frontline team. Well, not the fighting part but how no matter how damaged they were, they wouldn't stop.

Sunstreaker was no better off than his brother. His leg was injured and to his great disdain, practically all of his alloy was charred from the fiery impact. He was more bothered about the superficial damage than the sparks flying out of his right leg each time he moved.

**Jazz to Ratchet. Did you know that your name in English rhymes with Hatchet?** There was a low mechanical growl as a response which Jazz ignored, cheerfully continuing. **Sorry to say but your favorite tykes are pretty fragged up.**

**Of course those two would manage to arrive damaged, **Ratchet snarled.** How bad? **

**Aw, was that concern I just heard in that relay? **The only reason Jazz dared pointing that out was because he wasn't within Ratchet's immediate vicinity.

**I put you together, I can take you apart Jazz.**

**Now come on, you wouldn't wanna do that to me, now would ya? All that time workin' and weepin' over me would be for nothin'.**

_**How bad are the twins? **_the CMO slowly growled. Knowing that he was performing a grand balancing act along Ratchet's rather limited patience, Jazz got down to business.

**Mainly superficial which in Sunstreaker's mainframe puts him at the top of the triage list. I can fix the main problems and they should be able to heal on their own. But they are unable to obtain alt modes let alone travel very far. You guys are gonna have to come fetch 'em. **Jazz turned the audio of his internal communications down as Ratchet went into a full tirade using every language, Earthen and alien, with all the vehemence he was capable of. It wasn't a very big surprise when Optimus' deep voice interrupted the dialogue and took over from Ratchet.

**I must talk to the American military to find a mode of transportation. For the time being I need you to be in charge of them. **Jazz's processors flashed through all the ways everything could go to the Pit.

**No problem, Optimus.**

**Good luck.** With those weighted words, both mechs closed the communications channel. Jazz cycled air through his vents to cool his systems, trying to think of what to do with the twins.

He couldn't take them anywhere far and he had traveled roughly thirty miles from Meg's home and into the rural countryside of a cattle ranch. It hadn't taken him very long to get there in his alt mode but it was something else entirely having to travel in his bipedal form. Not to mention the process would be even slower considering the twins' states. The best place would be to take them back to Meg's since it was territory he knew well and the towering oaks and rolling countryside would give efficient cover. Logically, it was the best plan.

_Primus, I'm sounding like Prowl,_ he thought to himself. However Jazz proved that he wasn't like Prowl because he didn't like the plan as much as he knew the tactician would have. It was for once simple reason.

He did not want the twins anywhere near his girl.

Jazz looked down and shook his head. He didn't like it but it was the best option. He would just have to keep a close eye on the melee warriors to make sure they kept a safe distance from Meg. It wouldn't be fair to hide them from her but that didn't mean they needed to constantly be around. Jazz would get them situated, even if it meant taking one of those heavy chains from the railroad yard in town to tie them to an oak, and spend most of his time keeping watch over them. 'Babysitting' is what the humans called it. Hopefully every once in a while he could go visit Meg until he finally had to leave.

"There's some rules you need to follow about the organics," Jazz said in English as he slowed down so he was walking beside Sideswipe. The twins briefly exchanged a look. Sunstreaker went to elbow Sideswipe but the twin had ducked out of the way which made Sunstreaker stumble and nearly fall. Jazz quickly reached over and steadied the much taller mech.

"_About that whole 'English' thing Jazz. We…kind of…"_Sideswipe stammered in their native language.

_"What my idiotic brother is trying to say is that we came across an off-lined Decepticon. Sideswipe infiltrated the Con's processors and the glitch caught a virus. Then he passed it on to me."_ Sideswipe immediately stopped walking and narrowed his optics at the back of his twin who had stopped a few paces in front.

_"Don't blame me for passing the virus on to you! If you had just believed me that the Con's records showed that Megatron was dead, then I wouldn't have had to relay the information to you!"_

_"If you had put up your firewall before probing into that slagger than you wouldn't have been infected in the first place," _Sunstreaker growled in a threateningly low tone. His dark grey hands were slowly clenching into fists.

Jazz watched the verbal tennis match and would have let it continue for some entertainment if there wasn't a virus in the center of the conversation. He quickly ran a self diagnostic to find that his systems were all clear. At least the pair was conscious enough to firewall themselves since some viruses could be transferred through communications. Jazz wisely decided that Ratchet wouldn't be finding out this latest tidbit from him. Or better yet, he'd make sure that Ironhide was around Ratchet when Jazz alerted the CMO. That would provide some entertainment for Optimus, Bee, and the kids. As long as the projectiles didn't recoil and hit anyone.

Metal clanged as Sideswipe lurched out to grab Sunstreaker's wrist and pull him off balance. Sparks erupted from Sunstreaker's wrecked knee as he fell forward but he managed to twist around to get a handhold on Sideswipe's charred armor so that they both crashed to the ground. Jazz shook his head and grabbed whatever mech happened to be on top with the magnetic lock on his right claw. So many enemies and allies were surprised by how strong he was despite his small size. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's surprise was no different. He casually lifted whatever twin he had and tossed him gently to the side.

_"So what are the implications of this virus?" _The twins stared up at him from the ground. Jazz crossed his arms beneath his chassis and squared himself. Sideswipe answered first since Sunstreaker was suddenly too consumed with digging dirt out of his joints and armor.

_"We can't uplink. Our basic communications are fine. Guess Red Alert wasn't so crazy after all for making us protect them like the paranoid-"_

_"Sideswipe," _Jazz cut in to keep the mech from avoiding the point. Sideswipe cocked his head innocently to the side, his sapphire optics sparkling a bit brighter.

_"We can't uplink to anything," _he said as if it was the simplest concept in the world. As if it wasn't the most integral part in assimilating on Earth.

Jazz turned around, shaking his head, and continued walking. The twins climbed on to their feet to shuffle after their lieutenant. Everything kept getting worse and worse. Jazz honestly wouldn't have been that surprised if Barricade came out from behind one of those enormous sandstones close by. The twins were almost literally coming to Earth blind; they knew none of the languages, culture… Primus, they probably hadn't even seen organics, let alone humans.

_"So back to these rules…" _Jazz ignored the groans from behind him. _"…that you need to know about the humans. First of all, they're small and fragile. It doesn't take much to make them go 'squish'. Second, respect them as you would your comrades. Wait, no. Respect them as you would Prime. _

"_Third, I've seen for myself and heard from Prowl what you two are capable of, so absolutely no pranks on them. Fourth, under no circumstances are you to reveal yourselves. Unless you want to end up frozen with humans electrocuting you, keep yourselves disguised…or at least out of sight." _

Through out the whole speech the twins dragged their big, complicated metal feet through the organic dirt. Well, Sideswipe did more than his vain brother. Sideswipe was busy trying to figure out what was going on with Jazz. From what they had heard about Jazz and whenever they had seen him, he was laid back, easy going, and always wisecracking. But this Jazz was serious. It was…weird. Maybe there had been a personality chip transplant with Prowl or something.

* * *

Meg laid on her stomach, her cheek pressed into Valor's dappled haunches. Her arms were folded above her head and she was fast asleep as if she was in her bed. Every once in a while the horse would shift as he took a step forward to continue his grazing although this never disturbed the sleeping girl. Flocks of birds erupted from somewhere in the vast golden paddock in a cacophony of rustling grass and beating wings. Trouble was pretending to be like his primitive cousins and while he had the stalking down pat, he didn't quite understand that the birds could go a lot higher than he could. Despite this, he would use his long legs to launch himself into the air, yap a bit, and then land with his eyes trained upward on the fleeing birds the whole while.

The Doberman trotted around, his head low as he followed the musty scent and cooing notes. Suddenly he stopped and poked his head over the grass, his pointed ears straight up. The dirt beneath his big paws was shaking with enormous footsteps. He knew what that meant but his acute senses also told him that the big shiny person was not alone. The dog stared at the crest of the hill on the other side of the wooden fence, quivering with anticipation. Then he saw them.

Jazz knelt down as Trouble bounded over to them while the new warriors stood slightly back.

_"Please don't tell me those are the humans," _Sunstreaker said with disgust at Trouble's slobbering tongue hanging from the side of his mouth. Jazz stood up which caused Trouble to dash back to the still sleeping Meg. Valor's head was raised, ears pricked. Grass was hanging from his mouth, forgotten.

_"No. The human is on top of the horse. The spotted four legged creature over there," _Jazz said as he pointed down into the paddock.

The three Autobots followed the dog down into the meadow, stepping over the fence. Meg was still asleep and oblivious to the tense horse beneath her. Valor snorted, his heart pounding in his thick chest. He was fine with the smaller shiny one but the two behind him were _huge_. And they were getting closer. With a toss of his head, he tucked his haunches and propelled himself forward. Meg let out a small scream as she was jerked awake and found nothing but air in between her and the ground.

_"That human sure sent the horse flying," _Sideswipe laughed. Sunstreaker shook his head and hit his twin upside the head.

_"No you glitch, the human was the one who fell."_

Still oblivious to everything except the feeling of her bones grinding into her muscles, Meg wearily sat up. She peered through the grass as she rubbed her head and saw three huge figures through the golden strands. For a moment she was completely frozen except for her eyes getting bigger. Then with an alarmed, 'Oh shit!' she scrambled to her feet. Jazz stepped forward, leaving the twins standing bemusedly behind him.

"You never said you were the short one!" Meg cried. Jazz suppressed a groan as he knelt down. Even the humans were going to be making the short quips.

"We need to stay here for a while Meg," he explained. Meg looked from him to the twins and back a few times. Noticeably, her gaze lasted longer on the twins than it did on Jazz. With each glance she seemed to calm down a bit more. Satisfied, Jazz stood up and took a few steps back. He got to be translator, lucky him. Before he could say anything though, Sideswipe took several giant steps forward and picked Meg up. The girl let out a shocked scream, clinging to the metal fingers gripped around her.

_"Aw, Jazz! You didn't tell us you had a human! That's why you're protective as a creator over the squishies!" _Sideswipe exclaimed as he held Meg up close to his face. The girl had reflexively closed her eyes in fear. She gasped when metal clashed and the hand holding her shook with the impact before dropping her.

With barely any delay, Meg felt a claw catch her. She opened her eyes to look up and saw Jazz's sternly set face. He muttered something low and very much mechanical sounding in a language she had never heard him speak before. It was the same language that the mech who had grabbed her had spoken.

The two newcomers took several calculated steps back while Jazz knelt to put Meg down so that he could talk to her. He needed to ask if the twins could stick around before they did something stupid and really gave her a reason to say no.

"I need a favor." Meg slanted her head slightly to the side, watching Jazz suspiciously from the corner of her eye. "These two were injured upon impact and are unable to obtain an alternate mode to travel back to our comrades." His optics still had those cheerful sparks to them but he was so stern.

"So you were wondering if they could stay here," Meg concluded. Jazz nodded his head, optics searching Meg. It was the first time since Meg truly formed a friendship with Jazz that she was intimidated of him. Not because of the massive Autobots flanking him but because she had never seen this side of him. It was the first hint of him being a high ranking officer, a real authority figure that demanded the utmost respect. When the silver mech was down to business, he was completely different from his normal laid back demeanor.

The idea was mind blowing but somehow Jazz was able to figure out what was going through Meg's mind. The Autobot cocked his head to the side, a lazy smile drawn out.

"Come on, girl. You have to admit its been gettin' kinda boring 'round here. I can guarantee that there won't be a dull moment with these two hangin' 'round." Meg looked over Jazz's right shoulder at Sideswipe.

"Are you okay with staying out here?" Sideswipe looked over at his brother, who scowled, and then back at Meg. Before he could respond, Jazz spoke up.

"They can't understand English 'cause they have a virus-"

"You can't catch it, can you?" Meg interrupted, completely alarmed.

"Naw, they blocked it so it won't be spreadin' anymore. But they can't download any data 'cause of this virus which includes Earth's languages. So say whatever you want to them and they won't know what you're talkin' about." Meg had never seen such a wicked grin as the one on Jazz's face.

"So they can't understand anything we're saying right now?" Jazz placed a claw on the ground beside Meg so he could swivel around to look over his shoulder at the very confused looking twins standing behind him. Meg had only known Jazz for a relatively short time but even she could tell how confused the twins were. She raised up a hand to cover up her smile. Jazz turned back around, the smile still in place, if not intensified.

"Say anythin' you want. As long as it's a 'yes' that they can stick 'round for a bit."

* * *

Meg perched on a felled tree, her text book resting on her crossed legs. Her highlighter was poised above the black print, running just before the words she was reading. There had just been too many distractions back home with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker sparring and upsetting the horses. Finally, Jazz had joined in on the fun on the condition that if he won, the twins would go elsewhere (while still remaining on the ranch of course) to entertain themselves. Jazz totally schooled them. Something had told her that the twins would be returning for a rematch against Jazz which meant that she would have never gotten her work done. While Meg had enjoyed the entertainment, she still had work to do and giant aliens proved to be too much of a distraction.

Half way through her reading, Meg felt the dried out wood beneath her quiver. She flicked her eyes upward and saw a foreboding form slowly walking through the trees toward her. The side vents on his head and over-avoidance of being scratched by the branches proved that it was Sunstreaker. Meg knew that there was a physical difference between the two twins but at that point, they were like dogs of the same breed: there were differences but the differences just wouldn't be noticed until one spent a lot of time with them.

Sunstreaker stood watching Meg for a long moment. The girl looked up at him, squinting from the bright sun, before she smiled and out of habit gave him a chipper 'Hi'. Realizing that he couldn't understand what she had just said, Meg blushed and pretended to return her attention back to her work. Metal glided as hydraulics pumped while Sunstreaker strolled over to a boulder and sat down so that he was facing Meg.

Resting against the boulder he watched the girl which weirded her out. Finally, Sunstreaker pulled one of his legs closer to him, elbow joint resting upon his upraised knee. He began speaking in his language, the low baritone of his fluid voice pulling Meg's attention from her homework. As he spoke she focused on him as if she could understand him. In a way, she could understand him. It may have been an alien language but nevertheless she was able to hear the weariness, fear, and trepidation that laced his words. Without breaking the lock that the blue optics had on her, Meg closed her history book and placed it beside her.

Sunstreaker kept talking in his language and Meg kept listening. When he finally dwindled to silence, Meg slipped off on to her feet. Hesitantly she walked over to the massive Autobot and, while keeping her eyes on his face, reached out and comfortingly rested her hand on the armor that made up his shin. Sunstreaker merely cocked his head, the cross expression never leaving his face.

Meg let her knees buckle and sat cross-legged beside him. In hindsight, she would have realized that she had no idea what she was doing. But obviously Sunstreaker had wanted to talk; if not talk specifically to her then to just fulfill the necessity to talk, or else he never would have spoken for so long.

"It must be hard being here and not having anything except for Sideswipe and Jazz. Jazz told me that you and Sideswipe were alone in space for a long time. No communications or anything. But at least you had your brother. I'm sure he got on your nerves a lot though…or whatever the robotic equivalent of nerves are. I know my brother gets on my nerves.

"His name is Andrew. He loves bothering me but I know that he loves me in that bizarre way of his." For a moment, Meg paused as an unexpected wave of emotions washed over her. "I really miss him. Ever since he went off to college in Colorado, I never see him. We talk every once in a while but he's so busy….You're lucky that you still have your brother around."

Suddenly realizing that she was getting to be a bit too emotional, Meg quickly stood up. She was about to give some excuse as to why she had to leave but then remembered that he wouldn't be able to understand her even if she gave one. Hoping that she wouldn't insult the massive warrior, Meg backed up while offering a feeble wave. Sunstreaker's face was impassive but he hesitantly returned the gesture.

As soon as Meg disappeared over the rise of the hill, Jazz stepped into view, seemingly from out of thin air. Sunstreaker remained sitting as the silver mech strolled over to him.

"_Wanna know what she was saying?_" Jazz asked as he flexed one of his claws. Sunstreaker paused and then nodding his head, curious as to what the tiny organic had been talking about. The twin had not only been surprised about how he had randomly started speaking to the girl about how worried he had been about finding Prime's unit but he was also surprised by how attentive she was in listening even though they both knew she couldn't understand him. When she had come closer and began talking, Sunstreaker was flabbergasted although he would never have admitted nor shown it.

Jazz relayed the conversation over to him, both in English and Cybertronian. Hopefully Sunstreaker would be able to learn some of the language that way. After closing the one-way connection (Jazz wasn't about to risk the virus breaking through the firewall to infect him through an open link), the silver mech crossed his arms beneath his chassis. He watched with bemusement as Sunstreaker was visibly surprised by what Meg had been saying. Somehow, despite their lack of verbal communication, she had known that he had been talking about his brother.

_"Insightful little creatures, ain't they?"_ Score one for the humans.

* * *

Despite the blaring vacuum cleaner and her music flowing from her laptop's speakers, Meg heard the bone-quivering thunder. It wasn't close enough to shake the house but she knew from the sheer volume of the thunder that the massive storm was approaching. And fast.

Meg switched the vacuum off and gave a sharp tug to the cord to yank it from the outlet in the wall. Not bothering to turn off the music, the girl dashed toward the front door. A few feet before the door, she began skidding to a halt but before she could come to a complete stand still, she spun around and ran into the kitchen. Grabbing a few carrots from the lower bin in the refrigerator, Meg only paused enough to briefly slip into her flip-flops before running outside.

The sandals slapped against her heels as she ran as fast as she could toward the pastures, hands clutching onto the frigid carrots she held. A fine mist had started, coating everything in a fine hazy veil. Thunder was booming louder and closer than before, and Meg could catch faint glimpses of lightning in the distance.

Valor gave a loud, relieved neigh from where he stood by the gate when he saw Meg. The horse tossed his head, his thick black mane dancing before falling in a disarray over his wide eyes. Worry lines were etched over his eyelids and when another clap of thunder sounded, he dropped down, darting off to the side. Meg stepped on to the lowest plank of the fence so that she could reach forward to the skittish Andalusian. After stroking him for a few minutes, the thick top railing of the fence pushing into her abdomen, Meg leaned back to step off the fence.

Jogging over to the gait with Valor following on the other side of the fence, Meg grabbed his halter laying on the ground and quickly undid the latch. There was no point in wasting time to put on Valor's halter since he would follow her anyway and the mist was starting to become heavier. With the gait wide open for the dappled grey horse, Meg stepped into a ground covering jog. The halter and lead rope were slung over her shoulder and the carrots were still firmly clasped in her grip. Valor was trotting just off to the side of her shoulder, nervously tossing his head with every rumbling sound of thunder and flash of light. Every once in a while he would dart forward if the thunder was surprisingly loud but he would always slow his pace down to stay beside his girl.

When the mist had become a drizzle, Meg kept up her steady jog but the moment that the drizzle intensified into rain, she broke into a run. Mud spattered beneath her running feet and she fought to keep the ground from slipping out from beneath her. Valor cantered beside her, his dappled coat turning a dark grey from the rain. His ears were flicking around nervously but for the most part he kept them back to keep the rain from getting into the sensitive insides.

By the time that Meg reached the barn, her clothes were soaked and her hair was plastered to her. She pulled away a thick strand from over her eyes and it fell limply away. While she was still running forward, Jazz stepped out from behind the barn. The sight of his machine gun and drawn battle mask was enough to cause the girl to come to a skidding halt, mud flying up everywhere. Valor cantered past her a bit but upon realizing that she had stopped, he dropped down to a halt to turn questioningly towards her. When the newly arrived twins also came into view, all of their weapons showing and ready to use, Meg started to instinctively step back.

"What's wrong?!" Meg called out above the sounds of rain pummeling into the ground. A crash of thunder sounded; Meg and Valor jumped while all three mechs slid into battle stances.

That was when a dawn of realization hit Meg. She knew that thunderstorms terrified those who were having a hard time dealing with the trauma of war. She had heard stories from her dad and his war buddies about how one ex-soldier had barricaded himself in his bathroom with nothing besides his pistol when there had been a thunderstorm. This was before he was admitted into psychiatric care.

"Get inside Meg!" Jazz ordered her in such a stern voice that for a moment she was more fearful of him than any threats of thunderstorms. The twins stood behind him, weapons blazing, their injuries sparking from the invasive rain.

"It's a thunderstorm!" Meg cried, the wind starting to pick up and pelt her with the icy water. "There isn't a battle going on." Slowly Jazz lowered his arm-turned-machine gun but his mask remained in place.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's just a storm. It's scary, but normal." Jazz briefly turned around to say something to the twins in their language. At this point Valor was nervously shifting his weight while bobbing his head up and down, spraying water droplets everywhere. When he would momentarily stop, he would grind his teeth while his breath plumed out in soft clouds from his dilated nostrils. Steam was rising from the length of his back, creating an eerie effect.

One of twins said something back to their silver lieutenant. Jazz thought for a moment then turned to look back at Meg who had placed a reassuring hand on Valor's steaming shoulder.

"So there's no danger?"

"If you're okay with thousands of volts of electricity striking you, then yeah, there's no danger." Jazz raised his gun again, unsure of how to translate that last statement. Before Meg could explain, the heavens decided to do the explaining; the sky lit up as forked lightning cracked into existence. A mere few seconds later thunder struck, shaking everyone to the very core of their existence.

Valor screamed and bolted forward, causing Meg to dart back to avoid him. She lost her footing on the slick mud, hitting the ground hard. Another flash of lightning lit up the world and this time when the thunder cracked, Valor reared up. He struck out with his hooves and Meg scrambled to get back up to her feet. The moment that the horse's front hooves touched back down, Meg let the halter hooked on her shoulder slide off. She flipped the end of the lead rope up and over Valor's head, right behind his ears.

Keeping a firm hold of the rope, Meg pulled Valor toward the open barn doors. The horse leapt forward, eager to get into the safety of his stall and be close to his stablemate. The Andalusian neighed and Cougar answered him. Once inside the stable, Meg undid the rope from around Valor's neck since she did not want to get in his way to be dragged and/or trampled during his mad dash to his stall. Her father would have scorned her for letting Valor act in such a way but at that moment she frankly didn't give a shit. The horse was scared and it would be utterly useless to force him to conform to the manners that had been taught to him.

With Valor safe inside his stall Meg leaned against the stall door, her arms crossed on top of it and her forehead resting on her wrist.

"Are you okay?" Meg feebly raised her head to see Jazz kneeling in the stable's double-doorway. The emotionally and physically exhausted teenager feebly nodded her head.

"It just took a lot out of me. I'm glad I hadn't turned Cougar out in the pastures today too." Jazz nodded his head in understanding. Once he was assured that Meg was okay, he spoke of his plans.

"I'll be right back. I need to find shelter that will be large enough for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker." Meg straightened herself up and walked over to Jazz who knelt further down. Water streamed off of his glistening silver form. She could barely see past his bulk and through the veils of watery grey to see the twins shifting their weight from foot to injured foot.

"You know that cliff-face just west of here?" Meg asked. Jazz nodded his head. He had come across the cliff with boulders that were nearly as big as Optimus surrounding the cliff's base. "There's a bunch of big caves there. I don't know if one of the caves can fit both of them, but I know that there's a few that are big enough to fit at least one of them."

Jazz thanked her and she could hear the smile that was behind his battle mask. Before he turned away to get the twins to a dry shelter, Jazz made sure to tell Meg to get dried off and warm. Meg just smiled and shooed him away. She tried not to jump at the lightning and thunder that erupted outside of the barn.

* * *

It was close to an hour later when Meg's chosen ringtone for her mom began singing away. The girl half-heartedly reached away from her spot in front of the portable heater to grab the phone which she had taken out of her waterlogged jean's pocket. As soon as she had the phone in hand, she pulled the thick blanket back around her. She flipped it open but before she even had a chance to talk, her mother's voice blared from the speakers.

"Where the hell are you?!" Meg winced, pulling the offending piece of technology away from her ear. Excuses spun through her mind and she settled on the best one: the truth.

"I'm in the barn. It was pouring by the time that I got Valor in and I didn't want to go through the storm to get back inside."

"Well, I'm glad that you're okay," Jeanne spat sarcastically, "but the dog and cat are starving. Those animals are _your _responsibility. While you were all nice and dry in the stable, they're locked up with no food or water. It was a good thing I came home early so that they could get fed." Meg's temper flared and she did her best to bite back a response that she knew would bring her mom down. Obviously it had been a bad day at work and apparently Meg was going to pay for it. Oh, it was fun with two females alone under one roof. Taking a deep breath, Meg calmed herself. There would be no end in sight if she were to start bickering with her mom.

"Valor is pretty freaked out by the storm. I didn't want to leave him alone." This quieted Jeanne down. Valor was such a sweet and young horse that he had earned the affection of everyone around him with the exception of the demon goat.

"Oh. I guess that's a good excuse. Just next time, be sure to call me so that way I know where you are. I came home to an empty house with nothing but the music on and the vacuum in the middle of the family room. Not to mention Trouble hiding beneath the table."

And there was the underlying problem. Meg was glad that she had reined in her temper and had not snapped at her mom. Jeanne had merely been worried about where Meg had been. What good parent wouldn't have been worried when their child was MIA and there was a huge storm out, granted that for the time being the lightning and thunder had died down. Several times the teenager had been yelled at for going out for rides in the middle of the rain and while Meg knew that she would never in her right mind take Valor out in a full-scale thunderstorm, teenagers had gotten a pretty bad wrap for making stupid decisions. There really wasn't any surprise that Jeanne would think Meg would do something that stupid.

"When the rain lets up, come inside. I'd rather you not stay out in the barn all night horsesitting." Then as an afterthought she added, "I really wish your father hadn't bought you such a high-strung horse." Meg worked to curb her abnormally short temper. Her mom had been saying how unwise it was to buy Valor from the start. It had taken seeing his sweet personality and dream-like quality for her to change her mind about him. However, whenever he showed his energetic nature, she was quick to bring up her original argument.

"I know Mom, but that's why I wanted to turn him out in the pasture today even though I knew it was going to rain. I haven't had a chance to ride him lately and I knew he would be crazy the next time I got him out." Meg could just imagine Jeanne shaking her head and knew she was still wondering why her husband would buy an Andalusian in the middle of such a rural setting.

The answer was simple really. Some rich guy who had enough money to live out his childhood dream of owning a cattle ranch had come out and bought some land in Meg's county. Before moving out to the country, he had bought himself a baby Andalusian in hopes of being able to ride around on his property on a beautiful white stallion. However, the man had taken a bad fall from one of his other horses and before Valor had even had the chance to be trained, the man gave up his dreams.

He sold the ranch, livestock, and fancy cowboy hat so that he could return to his beloved city where, frankly, he belonged. Meg's dad had jumped at the chance to buy his little girl her dream horse. With her father's persistent guidance, Meg had worked with Valor and trained him without resorting to the horse techniques of cowboy breaking. The rest is, as they say, history.

Meg made a promise to Jeanne that she would be inside as soon as she was given the chance. The other reason she was staying outside in the barn was because she was waiting for Jazz but she wasn't about to mention that. Jeanne finally hung up with a promise to keep Meg's dinner in the oven to try and keep it warm.

It seemed that right as Meg hung up the phone and huddled inside her warm blanket cocoon, that the stable doors slid open. Already knowing who it was, Meg pulled the blanket further over her head to keep the gust of cold air from getting to her. Her jeans were stiff, muddy, and very much damp so she didn't want any more reason to be cold. As soon as the doors were shut again Meg peeked out from beneath the blanket. Unnervingly close was Jazz's face.

The only visible parts of the girl were her eyes and forehead and Jazz delicately used his claw to peel away the blanket to see Meg's damp clothes. The mech frowned a bit, worry showing in his bright optics. As soon as Jazz got his peek, Meg clutched the blanket back to her. She would have tried keeping him from taking the blanket away in the first place but she knew it would have been in vain to play tug-of-war with a giant robot who weighed several tons.

"I thought I had told you to dry off." He had done his research and learned that humans were susceptible to cold and he wasn't about to let his human get sick.

"Valor was freaking out from the storm. I didn't want to leave him alone." Jazz glanced over his shoulder at the horse standing in the back of his respective stall. Turning back around he said, "He looks calm now."

Avoiding where she knew the conversation was going, Meg pulled the blanket closer.

"I'm fine." She fully realized the hypocrisy of what she had just said and done. So did Jazz. Shaking his head, the mech backed up to give himself space to transform into his alternate mode, his heater already engaging. Before he could though, a crash of thunder erupted. The very ground shook and there was mad scrambling within Valor's stall.

Without any hesitation, Meg flung off the blanket and was just about to enter into the stall. As she was undoing the latch she felt something grab her firmly around the waist. She looked over her shoulder and saw Jazz. She had never seen him so weary and, more than that, worried. It had taken a lot to keep the twins in line and seeing Meg risk her safety was just not something that he wanted to go through.

"It's okay," she told him, resting her hand on his multi-jointed claw. She was as confident as she sounded. Nothing else needed to be said for Jazz to understand that she would have the situation under control. Valor thrashed within his stall and Jazz hated the idea of the fragile human going in there with the terrified horse and flying hooves but he let go of her anyway. He had to trust that she knew what she was doing.

With a soft and thankful smile, Meg carefully opened the stall door and stepped inside. Valor was in the back, pressing himself into the corner. His black forelock and mane were splayed out in a mess of tangles while his eyes rolled in fear, the whites showing. He looked as crazed as he was. Another crash of thunder sounded and he neighed, shoving himself further against the wood.

If Meg had heard about anyone else doing what she was doing, she would have called them stupid. There was no doubt in her mind that what she was doing _was _stupid with the possibility of so many dire consequences. It was pure madness to approach a horse that was so terrified. But Meg knew Valor and she knew the point in which she would be in over her head. She hadn't reached that point. Yet. Keeping her eyes on his shoulder to see when he would tense up and if he would bolt, Meg approached him slightly from the side. Not close enough to be near his powerful rear end but also not directly at him so that he wouldn't feel cornered. With an outstretched hand, she began issuing soft murmurs.

"It's okay baby boy. Don't you worry about the storm. You're safe inside here. Don't worry baby boy. Don't worry." She continued her murmurs until she was close enough to touch the quivering dappled coat. Valor had begun licking his lips, reverting back to the days when he was just a tiny foal and submissive to older horses.

The first crack of thunder sent Valor back on his haunches but other than that, everything was okay. The second crack had completely caught the girl and horse off guard. Valor shot forward at the same moment that Meg took several steps back to stay in a safer range from the frantic horse. Cougar didn't help matters when he gave a nervous neigh from the stall next to Valor and one of the goats, most likely Chupacabra, started bleating. There was a sound of hydraulics and the bleating suddenly stopped. Meg would have smirked if she wasn't so focused on Valor. The mere sight of Jazz was able to put Chupacabra in his place and for this Meg was more than thankful.

Starting from square one, Meg yet again approached Valor who had come to a stop in the other back corner. This time she was able to get close enough to stroke his thick neck, the maze of veins having risen up from stress and activity. Tired of murmuring the repetitive phrases Meg resorted to humming. She had no idea what she was humming but it was soft and, she assumed, soothing. White foam fluttered from his great black lips and he was nervously chomping his teeth. Eventually calming down, Valor bent his arched neck and lipped at Meg's arm.

Meg continued her humming and stroking. While most horses when they had been as frantic as Valor would be unapproachable, Meg knew that Valor just needed someone to be with him. Horses were herd animals after all. Cougar was the same way but he was much older and experienced. By no means did he like thunder storms but he was much calmer than his younger stablemate.

There was another clap of thunder and while Valor jumped, he did not bolt. After he realized that there would be no follow up, he backed himself slightly out of the corner so that he could press his broad forehead into Meg's chest. If he was a dog he would have been climbing into her lap. Actually he would probably have been doing that anyway if Meg had been sitting down.

Once Meg was assured that Valor was going to be okay, she called out to Jazz. She had remembered the carrots that she had carried outside at the beginning of the storm. Jazz quickly found them and delicately held them inside the doorway. Meg slowly drew herself away from the terrified horse enough to step over and take the carrots from the mech. Valor watched her and took a step forward before she returned.

The horse absentmindedly took one of the carrots, the white foam around his mouth turning orange but he was still too uneasy to take anymore. Meg tossed the remaining carrot into his uneaten hay, saving one for Cougar.

Even though the thunderstorm was still raging, Valor was calm enough for Meg to leave his stall. The rain was pounding on the stable roof, making the girl cringe at the thought of going outside. Instead she opted to sit with Jazz who was leaning against the stable wall opposite of the double doors.

Turning off the heater and grabbing her blanket, Meg tossed Cougar's carrot into his stall before climbing up onto the armor that covered Jazz's thigh. She needed no invitation but he still helped her up his slick armor. With the blanket wrapped around her and huddled against Jazz's warm form, Meg could feel herself warming up. He reminded her of a giant computer with how warm he was and if she were to listen _really_ carefully, she would hear his internals humming.

"Where are Sunstreaker and Sideswipe?" Meg asked. Jazz, his arm pressed against Meg to keep her from sliding off, looked down at her with his normal smile.

"In the caves. You shoulda seen the fight those two got in. Sideswipe wanted the cave Sunstreaker had found. It was bigger than the other one we had found so they ended up fightin' over it. Sunstreaker won but when he went inside and saw all of the bat feces, he wanted Sideswipe's. So _another _fight broke out. I woulda stopped it but there was a lightning strike that they barely dodged. They figured it was better gettin' in the caves than being struck."

Meg smiled at the thought and somewhat wished she could see how the twins were handling the storm as Jazz sat nice and dry in the barn. She made a mental note that when the storm ended and they came back, she would stay well away from them. Tempers would be raging.

* * *

**_Author's Note: A disclaimer/safety note. If a horse is freaking out, stay away from them. I pulled artistic license by Meg doing the whole "horse whisperer" shpeel. Also, I noticed that I'm having a hard time with run-on sentences. If there's any, please let me know._**


	7. Chapter 6

**_Author's Note: I love reviews, they're so inspiring. So I took a major detour when someone asked if I could write about Ratchet's reaction to finding out about the twins. And it just kept on evolving from there... Oh, and FOB stands for Fresh Off the Boat. Not always a nice way to refer to immigrants._**

**_Thank you for all of the reads and reviews!!_**

* * *

"You really are the strangest boy I've ever met."

"This is gonna be so wicked," Sam replied, ignoring Mikaela's comment. The teenaged girl rolled her eyes up towards the clear sky out of habit but wound up looking straight into Ironhide's skeptical face.

"What is the boy doing?" Ironhide asked Mikaela. Sam was too busy dumping yet another bag of leaves into the growing pile to pay any kind of attention to the conversation that was questioning his sanity. Bumblebee was silently observing with his driver's door open to allow Sam access to the black garbage bags packed into his backseat. There was no doubt that Sam was hearing all of this but he kept bustling around like an over-caffeinated squirrel. Bee called Sam's hyperactivity "Frenzy episodes".

"He's trying to get a giant leaf pile together," Mikaela explained. She cocked her hip as she crossed her arms. The camera hanging from its strap weighed heavily on her shoulder.

"And the point of that is…"

"So Sam can ride on Bumblebee's roof as they drive past the leaf pile and Sam can jump into it." There was a long drawn out silence from Ironhide as he was trying to comprehend what Mikaela had just said.

"And the point of _that _is?" Finally, Sam broke his supposed obliviousness. He whirled around to face Ironhide and Mikaela, the last bag of leaves to add to the monstrous pile gripped tightly in his hands.

"Because," Sam grunted as he carried the awkward bag over to his masterpiece, "Miles is in Ohio and he posted this video of him on this website where he's riding in his cousin's pick-up truck and jumps into this big ass pile of leaves. He called the video 'Sam is too girly to ever try this!'. I'm gonna prove that asshole wrong! I spent a freakin' week gathering all of these leaves from people's yards. Why can't there be seasons in California? What's wrong with a little autumn leaves?"

"Apparently _that's_ why," Mikaela grumbled, answering Ironhide's question before Sam's mini-tangent.

"So that is the reason for the recording device?" Ironhide asked, gesturing to the camera hanging from the strap on Mikaela's shoulder.

"Yep. Bee is gonna drive with his hologram and I'm going to record the whole thing so Sam can post it."

Ironhide stood for a few moments, watching Sam climb amidst the sprawling mountain of leaves to dump the final bag on the top. The enthused teenager than crumpled the bag up, tossing it aside with the rest of its discarded companions. He then dashed over to Bee while Mikaela, taking the silent hint, switched on the camera. She took a few steps back to get the right angle while keeping Ironhide out of frame. The weapons specialist considered leaving but, with no Decepticons to shoot, decided to stick around and watch the show.

Bee's engine roared to life as Sam climbed atop the yellow roof. The Camaro performed a U-turn and slowly, for him anyways, drove toward the designated starting point. A plume of dirt came from behind the synthetic rubber wheels, covering the golden hills of the California landscape in a soft beige haze.

Mikaela's shoulders hefted upward with her sigh but her hand remained steady as she focused the camera on the bend of the road that Bee would soon be appearing from. There was a blare of a horn and Mikaela pressed the recording button. Bumblebee zipped around the corner with Sam surfing on the roof, knees bent and arms spread out with a humorous expression of thrill plastered nervously on his face.

For Bee, the speed was compared to that of a crawl but for his surfing human, it felt like they were about to break the sound barrier. Before he realized they were approaching too fast, Sam leapt from Bee's roof.

* * *

"Ratchet is going to kill me," Bee moped. He was sitting against the wall of his quarters inside the Autobots' impromptu base, his head hanging between his gigantic shoulders. Like a little kid trying to feebly hide beneath a blanket, Bee had his battle mask in place. Apparently even aliens held the belief of 'If I can't see you, you can't see me' theory. Sam stumbled over to his friend and collapsed against his leg, still groggy from the pain medicine.

"Relax Bee, I talked you into it," the boy said as he, without thinking clearly, waved his injured arm around. He grimaced and went to grab it, barely realizing in time that touching his broken wrist would only make it worse despite the fact that it was protected in a cast.

Mikaela came over and sat beside Sam, her perfectly tanned legs folded beneath her to keep from giving everyone too much to see underneath her jean miniskirt. She draped her arms around Sam, giving him a hug. Her boyfriend pouted but still leaned into the hug, thankful for some pity. At this point he could care less about his manliness…he just wanted a hug.

Sam perked up with a sudden realization. The stunt may have ended in complete catastrophe, but the whole thing would still be an insane internet video. Guys loved watching their friends risk their life for a stupid gloating right. It was how the whole Jackass franchise was developed.

"Did you get the video?" Sam asked, brown eyes wide with expectation. Mikaela glanced away and then looked back at Sam with an uneasy smile. She sat closer to him, hugging him tighter. Sam's hopeful look wavered a bit.

"Um, when I replayed it, I could see Ironhide's shadow." This time Sam visibly withered at the news. Letting out a great moan he sagged against his girlfriend. Even the disastrous stunt that was guaranteed to get masses of views had gone wrong. Some higher power was having a grand ol' time making Sam's life miserable. Of course, resting his head on his hot girlfriend's chest while sitting beside his car-turned-best friend was the one foundation that kept him from thinking that his sole purpose in life wasn't to supply entertainment for deities.

Leaning against Bumblebee, Mikaela massaged Sam's knotted neck while she stroked Bee's shiny metal shin. Slowly, Sam succumbed to the pain medication and Mikaela's soothing touch. He drifted off to sleep, leaning against both Mikaela and Bee.

"I'm a horrible guardian," Bee whispered. If Mikaela didn't know any better, she would have thought she was talking to one of her girlfriends from school.

"You saved me and Sam from Barricade _and_ from falling off of Optimus _and _Sam from those dogs in the junkyard _and _that whole thing with Mr. Peterson shooting at us to get us off of his property. I think those things are more important than saving Sam from his own stupidity," Mikaela whispered fiercely back, careful not to disturb the sleeping Sam even though Optimus in his alt mode couldn't have woken the boy up.

Bumblebee used a finger to lift up one side of his mask. His blue optic twinkled with the hope of forgiveness, forgiveness that he already had. Mikaela smiled and gave a squeeze to a piece of his armor.

"You're the best Bee. Don't worry about Sam getting hurt from being stupid. We're teenagers, we're supposed to be stupid. 'specially the boys." Bumblebee just shook his head, not wanting to accept that but knowing that it was the truth so he would have to. He wondered what exactly he had gotten into by deciding to stay with Sam.

* * *

"_Run for your life man!_" Epps cried as he and Lennox barreled down the hallway, arms and legs pumping like mad. A roar of pure anger erupted from further down the hallway. Ironhide was thrown backwards from one of the doorways, hitting and then sliding to the floor with a great crash. He hadn't even had enough time to engage his cannons. Sam and Mikaela dove to the side of the hallway to get out of Ironhide's way as the giant mech scrambled to his feet and dashed past them.

For a long moment Sam and Mikaela traded glances between each other and down the hallway towards the medical bay. They had no idea what was going on in there. It couldn't have been a Decepticon attack because Ironhide would never ever run _away_ from a chance to shoot things. However, he _did_ run away and that in itself was petrifying, yet funny at the same time.

Before they could make a decision, the ground began shaking as metallic footsteps thundered from behind them. Once again, the teenagers plastered themselves against the wall to keep from being smooshed. Two pairs of legs rushed by in one giant stride. Mikaela and Sam watched with dumbfounded expressions, Mikaela nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Sam looked like he was about to say something but then seemingly deflated as he thought better of it. More crashes rang out from the medical bay. Deep resonating Cybertronian rumbled as Optimus and Ironhide tried to placate the enraged beast within.

When the deep voices became more prominent than the crashes, the human teenagers dared to sneak forward. Mikaela stopped a few yards from the enormous doorway while Sam dropped to his knees and crawled the last stretch, his injured arm tucked protectively up against his chest. He carefully peered around for a few seconds and then pulled back. Wordlessly, he waved his arm to usher Mikaela over. The girl felt as if she was sneaking out in the middle of the night as she tiptoed to lean over Sam. She braced against the doorway and peeked in.

It looked like Ironhide had mistook the medical bay for his practice range. Surfaces that weren't bolted down were turned over and bizarre tools were splayed out everywhere. Ratchet was leaning against the far left wall, the air wavering near the vents releasing the heat from his exhausted systems. The teenagers had the perfect view as Optimus stood directly in front of Ratchet while Ironhide stood off to the side.

While Mikaela kept an eye on what was happening between the Autobots, Sam looked around the medbay. He had made a point in rarely coming into the Room-of-Doom since his little flying lesson and it was pretty easy considering that Bumblebee avoided it as if…well, as if it was Ratchet's medbay. The young scout was the one who coined the phrase Room-of-Doom and the term was spreading fast among Autobots and humans alike.

Sam was amazed at all of the tools sprawled about, some the size of him and then some. Finally his hazel eyes fell upon a counter top bolted into the wall opposite of the doorway. A Frankenstein of a computer had been constructed on top of part of it. Lights were blinking on the computer and there were plenty of knobs, dials, and things that Sam would never entirely understand. One thing he did understand though, was that a light was emitting from a flat area. And that light was forming a six foot hologram of the one and only Jazz.

Mikaela fell backwards from surprise as Sam twirled around to look at her. Forgetting his lack of arm he fell down, his feet sliding out behind him and knocking Mikaela's feet from under her. She landed on top of him, wincing from the hard cast that was shoved into her abdomen. Both of them looked over at the conversing mechs, Sam tipping his head back to awkwardly look behind him, and saw that their little accident had not been noticed.

Rather liking the fact that Mikaela was laying on top of him, Sam nodded his head towards the hologram.

"I told you that Star Wars stuff was real!" he whispered excitedly. Then he broke into a horribly high impersonation. "Save me Obi Wan!" Mikaela narrowed her eyes in her trademark 'you are a freak/idiot' look before shoving herself off of Sam. She offered him her hand to help him up but Sam just rolled back on to his knees and resumed his spying.

Already caught up in what was going on and unable to pass up the chance to look at a hologram again, Mikaela resumed her post over Sam. To her amazement, the hologram of Jazz had flickered away. The teenagers exchanged a quick confused look before looking back into the medbay.

"You two would never make good spies," came a deep voice. This time it was Mikeala's fault when she tripped over Sam's legs in her haste to get away but ended up falling on to Sam's back.

"Ow-w-w-w," Sam whimpered. They looked up and saw the beam of light shining into the hallway and ending in Jazz's six foot high hologram. Staring up in shock, the pair climbed up to their feet.

"No way," Sam whispered. Jazz's life-like hologram cocked his head, his long arms crossed beneath his chest.

"Never seen a hologram before?"

"Bee has one," Sam muttered distractedly.

"We've just never seen you guys this…short," Mikaela explained.

Sam experimentally waved his unbroken arm in front of the beam of light. He gave an excited "Holy shit!" as Jazz's armor appeared on his own skin. The hologram had a long chunk missing but Jazz seemed unaffected. He gave an amused smile and then nodded his head to Bee who had walked up.

"What's going on?" the yellow scout asked, glancing from Jazz's hologram to within the medical bay. Bumblebee was happy to see Jazz again but a conference in the medical bay was never a good thing.

The three elder Autobots had finally taken notice to their audience. Ironhide was unreadable while Ratchet was trying his best to hide his shame that the human children had been witness to his infamous rage. The CMO had prided himself on the fact that the two had never shown fear around him. They had never shown the telltale signs of nervousness that they had displayed around Ironhide for so long, which was understandable considering that their first introduction had the enormous dolt wiping out his cannons. The trio watched in silence.

"Just wanted to let Ratchet know that the twins have a virus that is keeping them from connecting with anything." Bee let out a little dismayed warble but before he could say anything, Jazz spoke up again. "Hey Bee, did you know that Ratchet rhymes with 'hatchet'? How perfect is that?"

"And Jazz rhymes with 'spazz'," Ratchet grumbled as he walked away from Optimus and Ironhide. "How fitting is _that_? Now cut the hologram transmission before you use up energy that neither you nor this base has." Jazz made a show of snapping his clawed fingers right before he disappeared.

"So what's going to happen to them?" Mikaela asked about the twins.

"Leave them," Ratchet muttered darkly.

"No can do Hatchet," Jazz's voice said as it rang out from some hidden speakers within the medbay.

"It's not my problem Spazz," Ratchet quickly retorted. And cue Ironhide's brashness.

"Technically it is." Ratchet spun around to fix him with an evil glare.

"They fragged themselves so they can just go find a way to fix themselves," Ratchet growled.

Optimus bowed his great head and heaved a sigh. Sometimes he felt as if he would have an easier time of commanding human teenagers than his own troops. In fact, it felt as if he _was_ commanding human teenagers. He watched the bantering go back and forth with Jazz's jovial voice chiming in whenever things were just about to calm down. Optimus amusedly noticed the expressions of shock, trepidation, amused, and umpteen more emotions mixed on Sam and Mikaela's faces. They stayed beside Bee whose twinkling optics were smiling.

It wasn't long before Optimus' CPU was starting to overheat and give him what the humans would call a migraine. He really wasn't that surprised; of course the twins, mixed with Jazz, and doubled with the bickering CMO and Weapons Specialist, would bring on a strained CPU. And to think that the twins hadn't even set foot on base yet. Primus help him. Who would have thought that the youngest and ever-inquisitive Bumblebee would be the least likely to cause problems.

"All right, all right," Optimus demanded to quell the bickering. He hadn't raised his voice but the room went quiet as if he had just yelled as loud as his vocals would have let him. "Jazz, I want Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to remain with you. If at all possible, have them find the viral codes so that Ratchet's job-" Optimus glared at the CMO to cut off the inevitable remark, "-will be easier for him."

"No prob Optimus but you gotta know that they can't stay here forever," Jazz warned. Only Optimus was able to catch that there was something more to what Jazz was saying. Apparently the lieutenant wanted the twins gone but for what exact reason, Optimus wasn't sure. It wasn't the obvious since Jazz just wasn't that simple.

"I understand Jazz, but the American government is coming to the base along with ambassadors from other nations."

"So you don't want the twins around," Jazz concluded.

"Because they would frag it up so badly that we would have an entire planet turning their nuclears on us." The room was silent after Ratchet spoke. No one was about to disagree with him.

"I'll keep the Dynamic Duo here and let you know how it goes," Jazz said right before he signed out and ended the transmission.

"More like the Atomic Duo," Ratchet grumbled. There was a pause before Ironhide spoke up.

"That was a bad insult." Ratchet glared at the Weapons Specialist with such detestation that the humans were ready for him to transform into a Robo-Incredible Hulk. Ironhide just looked very smug which didn't help the situation any.

For a long moment Ratchet continued his glare of death before raising his arm and pointed with one of his dexterous fingers toward the doorway where Sam, Mikaela, and Bee were still watching from. The motion was meant to get everyone out of his sanctuary but instead he ended up pointing out the arrival of Maggie and Glen.

The pair of hackers stood on the opposite side of the doorway from the teens and Bumblebee. Maggie held a pink box of donuts while Glen gawked at the Autobots. It didn't matter that he had known the aliens for several months, he was still awed, and slightly overwhelmed, by them. Sam and Mikaela darted towards Maggie, who was also burdened with her computer bag. They relieved her of the monstrous task of holding the box of donuts and the tape holding the lid down was quickly ripped through.

Curious about what was so sought after in the pink box, with the exception of Bee who already knew what sugary delights were hidden inside, the Autobots came closer. The moment that Ratchet saw the fat laden treats, he scowled. Sam was already in the process of eating one chocolate covered twist with a chocolate chip bar ready and waiting in his other hand, trying to thank Maggie and Glen around his mouthful. Mikaela held the opened box while she ate a donut with patriotic sprinkles. She was trying to outmaneuver Lennox and Epps who had magically appeared from out of nowhere at the scent of donuts and sight of the pink cardboard box of joy.

Mikaela's attempts at keeping the box away from the soldiers proved futile since she was busy trying to eat her own donut. Lennox ended up with the box and raised it above his six foot plus stature to keep it from his shorter tech sergeant. Epps was having none of that. He leapt a few times but it was in vain. Lennox snickered and egged him on while Ironhide made an aside comment to Optimus with an allusion to Jazz's height problems. Epps finally took a more direct approach and slugged Lennox in his stomach. The tech sergeant took the box and grabbed an old fashion with chocolate on top.

Sam watched all of this with vast amusement, that is until nimble green fingers reached down and plucked the donut from his hands right when he was about to bite into the pure deliciousness. His big brown eyes bugged out while his mouth hung agape. He whirled around to face Ratchet who was studying the donut.

"No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no. Ratchet, no! Give it back! Ratchet. Ratchet!" Sam watched with horror as Ratchet held the donut between two fingers while running mind boggling amounts of scans.

"This is nothing except fat and sugar," Ratchet said with a fair amount of disgust. Glen grimaced from the memory of why exactly he avoided donuts and the damning sugar rush after.

"Exactly!" Sam cried as he threw up his arms in exasperation.

"What of the food pyramid? This has nothing to do with nutrition."

"Bread is a food group and donuts have plenty of bread," Mikaela pointed out. Sam whirled around and pointed to Mikaela with his injured arm.

"Yes!" he cried, "See, it has some health values! Now let me eat it!" Ratchet looked as if he was about to toss it over his shoulder which upped Sam's frenzy. Then came Mikaela to the rescue.

"Sometimes you have to indulge yourself," Mikaela spoke up. "Come on Ratchet, there has to be something that you've been wanting to do but you haven't been able to." A very thoughtful expression crossed Ratchet's face.

"The only way that tincan would indulge himself is by keeping victims locked up in this fragging Room of Doom to torture," Ironhide snickered. Metal clanged in the room and Ironhide was doubled over, clutching his massive horned head in his hands. Ratchet still had that thoughtful expression on his face however there was a fair amount of fulfillment on it.

"You are right, that was satisfactory. It was about time I indulged myself."

"By hitting me?" Ironhide groaned. He shot Bumblebee a glower as the yellow scout was futilely trying to hold his laughter in.

When Bee finally started to break down, Ironhide growled and headed straight for Bee while the black mech kept a hand on the back of his head to cover the sore dent. Bumblebee scrambled away and started running as fast as he could down the hallway. Ironhide stopped at the door, unwilling to waste the energy to chase the much more nimble scout.

"I'm surprised that his ancient head didn't just fall off!" the teasing voice echoed from Bee's spot at the end of the hallway. Ironhide roared and stepped over the humans. The ground shook from his thundering footsteps as he pursued his prey.

Optimus yet again sighed as he debated on whether or not he should make sure that Ironhide did not hurt Bumblebee. It didn't take long for him to decide that Bee would get what was coming to him. A very loud bang followed by a shocked cry quickly changed his mind. Just when he was about to step over the humans to make sure he still had a scout, Maggie spoke up.

"Um, Optimus we kind of have something to tell you," the blonde somewhat timidly said. The great commander stopped and knelt down in front of the female hacker. She instinctively took a step back, her brown eyes slightly widened behind her black rimmed glasses.

"Well, we were just notified by the SecDef that we're going to be getting an extra…um, visitor."

"Who might this extra visitor be?" Maggie exchanged a quick nervous glance with Glen.

"Agent Simmons," Maggie couldn't continue until the outcries ceased. "I know that Sector Seven was disbanded but Simmons managed to stay with a government job. I have no idea how he did it but he's such a bloody weasel that I'm really not that surprised."

"I bet that its for the government to keep an eye on him," Epps muttered with Lennox nodding in agreement.

"And what is the purpose of this visit?"

"Apparently to make sure that everything is ready for the foreign ambassadors. They want everything in…" Maggie trailed off as she saw Ironhide limping back into the room dragging the still struggling Bee by one of his doorwings. "…in order." Optimus pinched his nose bridge. There weren't even an immediate threat of Decepticons and yet his job was still stressful.

There would be no problem handling the politicians. After all, he had been a ruler himself before he was forced to take over the role of general when his brother betrayed him. It also helped that Ratchet had been a political member of the council before finding his place as a medic on the battlefield. With Bee's friendly personality and close bond with the humans, the yellow scout would be a great asset to the meeting. For Ironhide, Optimus was planning on using the Weapons Specialist to demonstrate the finer points of alt modes. By this Optimus meant to have Ironhide reside in his alt mode for the whole duration of the meeting if possible. It was a farfetched plan but it was Optimus' favorite by far. As a Topkick he wouldn't be able to "show off" his cannons to anyone.

The problem would be with Simmons. No one remotely liked the ex-agent and for good reason. Optimus had overheard Bumblebee, Sam, Mikaela, Epps, and Lennox plotting ways to enact revenge, most with a humorous twist. Optimus himself wished to avoid the cocky and self-entitled man but it seemed that it would be impossible. It wasn't the first time that he was beginning to miss Jazz. The lieutenant would know how to handle the nuisance. Jazz had dealt with plenty of troublesome soldiers within the Autobot ranks and managed to do it without breaking any regulations. He was beginning to think he should just switch with Jazz. There was no doubt that the smaller mech would be able to handle the situation.

In fact, Jazz _would_ handle the situation. At least when it came to Agent Simmons.

* * *

Simmons stepped out of the silver government vehicle and into the hot California sun. He took a long moment to place his sunglasses on before he looked around. The outside of the "base" was wanting. The Autobot base was disguised within an abandoned airport, the main portion within and under an enormous hangar. Everything was debilitated and rundown. Now, the Sector Seven headquarters, ex-headquarters rather, now _that_ was impressive. Not only had they been hiding the greatest secret to mankind and developing technology that changed the world, they were also a top tourist destination. Selling Hoover Dam refrigerator magnets right above the hangar housing the NBE-1. And don't even get him started on the delectable coffee and lattes they had served the agents.

Simmons grabbed his briefcase and then walked toward the hangar, the massive doors cracked open. He saw some movement within. Without looking back at his car, he pointed the remote over his shoulder and with the push of a button his car locked with a satisfactory beep. Oh, how he loved how his car listened to him with no back talk, opinion, personality, bratty teenagers, or trigger happy soldiers.

As he neared the hanger, he was hating the effect of walking through the dirt had on his shining loafers and dry cleaned suit, the doors began rolling open just enough to let him through. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust but he refused to take his sunglasses off. They kept his eyes hidden to make sure none of his emotions were revealed. And they made him feel bad ass.

Optimus was the first one he saw, towering in that overbearing way of his. Unlike their first _lovely_ meeting, the Autobot did not kneel down to ease the height difference. He was flanked by the lime green eyesore and the robot who thought of himself as Clint Eastwood. The yellow bug was standing beside the eyesore with his two little pets standing at his feet. The assemblage of Air Force jocks were scattered about with Lennox and Epps beside Clint Eastwood. While he would never admit it, the Autobots had earned his complete respect and awe after he saw what they were capable of. However, the other humans just annoyed him and no intergalactic battle would make him forget the teens' insults and the soldier boy threatening to shoot him.

Simmons placed his briefcase down and spread his arms out wide.

"What a welcoming party! It's a shame you skipped out on the streamers and balloons. The kids and jarheads would have had a _blast_ getting high off of the helium."

"We're _Air Force_, not Marines," Lennox demanded, his voice louder than Mikaela's protests which were muffled behind Sam's hand clasped over her mouth.

"Same difference," Simmons flippantly remarked. The comment was to the soldier boys but his eyes were locked on the weenie teenager. There was no doubt that the boy spent plenty of time shoved in lockers and given swirlies but he had a mouth on him. Simmons would enjoy sparring with him with their swords of wit.

It didn't take much to issue the challenge. He simply took off his glasses, tucked them into his blazer breast pocket and held the boy's gaze for just long enough to get the point across. The boy raised his chin just a fraction and the answer had been given. Stepping away from his girlfriend and car, the boy strode forward. Simmons stared down at him as the boy stared upward. Suddenly, the boy smiled and offered his uninjured hand.

"It's nice to see you again. It's Agent _Semen_, right?"

"_Simmons_ actually," Simmons responded with a fake grin as he shook Sam's hand. What a juvenile insult. If that was all Sam was bringing, then he was going to be sorely disappointed at the outcome of this little spar.

"Oh, sorry about that. In case you don't remember, I'm Sam." Sam turned around after letting go of Simmons' hand and pointed over his shoulder at the agent. "Hey Bee, I got the name wrong." The giant yellow bug nodded his head and stepped forward.

"I understand Sam. I will be sure to not make a mistake with his designation." Shit, the thing could talk now. Just another annoyance to deal with.

Bumblebee knelt down and despite his lack of mouth, it appeared as if he was smiling. Something was wrong and Simmons was prepared. Everyone was just too friendly and Optimus, the supposed leader, was just watching the whole thing. Sam took a few steps back to accommodate the larger size of his guardian. Bumblebee extended his hand towards Simmons.

"I am glad that you had a safe trip here Agent Semens," the scout said with the most innocent of faces.

"Simmons. My name is S_i_m-m_o_ns," the agenst corrected with the fake smile on his face, shaking one of the giant's fingers.

"I apologize Agent Semens." The robot actually seemed genuine if it wasn't for the flaw of the name.

"Simmons."

"Semens."

"No, it's…never mind."

"Once again, I apologize. It seems that my language makes it difficult for me to properly pronounce your name." Simmons didn't believe Bee's explanation for a moment.

Optimus stepped forward in all of his gigantic super robot glory.

"I hope that our linguistic limitations will not have an effect on Bumblebee being your escort for the duration of your stay here." Simmons nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm more used to the escorts of the hired variety but I suppose no one wants to be seeing this guy in hose and heels. But then again…" Simmons turned his attention on Mikaela and he had no need to finish.

"Why don't we get you situated in your quarters Agent Semens," Bumblebee said as he non too gently scooped Simmons up and grasped him in one of his hands. The agent hung horizontally, Bee's hands swinging with his languid gait.

"So how long do you think he's gonna last?" Lennox asked the remaining occupants of the room.

"How long will he last here with us or how long will he last after we ship him off to Jazz?"

* * *

Simmons had had enough. The whole time during his stay at the base those infernal Autobots and their pet humans referred to him as 'Agent Semens' and it didn't help with the giant yellow bug always around. The big yellow bug was of course always gone when Simmons was constantly locked either inside or outside of his room. In addition to the 'mistake' of mispronouncing his name, there was the incidence of him finding various numbers for hookers and strip clubs on his Blackberry under the label of 'Eggs for Agent Semens'. And then the public viewing of some rather embarrassing pictures taken during drunken fiascos on said Blackberry. And the disappearance of his clothes. And the sudden appearance of a mall cop uniform. And it was all topped off with the hourly verbal sparring with Sam whom Simmons openly referred to as 'Jock Bait'.

At the end of the lovely little vacation, Jock Bait and his girlfriend, Jail Bait, came forward and apologized for their behavior. Simmons knew it was an act. It was obvious that they had been behind everything (especially when Jock Bait asked how things were going down in the Red Light District and Jail Bait asked how his shift at the mall went) and by the teenagers taking the blame, the Air Force jarheads and big ass robots could not be blamed for the shenanigans. Of course he knew that the robots and jarheads knew perfectly well what was going on and was probably lending a helping hand whenever possible. The problem was that it would be nigh impossible to prove their involvement. And what punishment could be placed on two horny teenagers who weren't employed by the government?

Oh, Simmons was going to let them continue playing their games. He was going along with the change of plans as he was reassigned by his higher ups to check in on the short robot and two newcomers. He knew that High and Mighty had something to do with the reassignment but he wasn't going to go against orders until he had to. Nothing besides Robo-Jesus' resurrection was mentioned about the trio. There was a teenaged girl involved with them (Simmons often brought up why exactly these robots were interested in minors) and from what he knew, her family was in the dark about what was really sitting in the family's driveway.

That meant some undercover for Simmons. Time to turn on his inner-James Bond. He enjoyed the idea of going to check up on Robo-Jesus and the FOBs. Get to spend some time in the country with only one teenager, an unwitting army wife, and three robots in hiding. It would be a hell of a lot easier than the shit he was currently dealing with. At the base, he was on the robots' turf; but in the country, the robots didn't have a clearly defined turf and he would quickly use that to his advantage. Things were looking up.

* * *

Meg sat on Jazz's hood, visibly twiddling her thumbs. She couldn't see Sunstreaker or Sideswipe but she knew that they were waiting close by. Jeanne was inside, drying off from the shower. Meg's eyes were glued on to the dirt road that led up to the house. Soon a cloud of dust erupted and it grew larger as whoever was approaching was coming closer. Meg straightened up and she felt Jazz lift slightly beneath her.

A silver Lincoln sedan with tinted windows and government plates pulled up, covering everything with dust. Meg grimaced and waved her hand in front of her face while trying to repress the urge to cough. It wasn't until the dust cleared and Simmons had stepped out of the car that Jazz rolled his window down so the agent could hear him.

"Welcome, Agent Semens."


	8. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: I was hit with a major idea and couldn't let it go. Thank you for all of the reviews, reads, and ideas! Let the torture begin...**_

* * *

"Jazz?"

"Yes?"

"Are you _sure_ you can't harm humans?"

"Yes."

"No exceptions?"

"Nope."

"No loop holes?"

"Nope."

"…Damn."

"I agree."

Meg sat on the fence, looking towards the her house in the fading light. Jazz was sitting beside her, ready to transform into his alt mode at a moment's notice. Simmons was taking a shower inside the house and Jeanne was venting to her sister on the phone about the annoying reporter who was staying with them as he was trying to write a story on army wives. At first, despite Jazz's obvious disdain, Meg didn't have a problem with Simmons. She knew why he was really there and had seen enough cocky, self-absorbed men not to be bothered by his arrogance. It wasn't until he had come up behind her at the dinner table, when her mother had briefly gone outside to dump the trash, that Meg wanted to drop-kick the man.

"Ever think of _why_ Robo-Jesus and his FOB friends stick around, little lady? Hm? I bet they _love_ that new Victoria's Secret purchase you bought with Daddy's credit card on Friday," Simmons had whispered into her ear, both hands tightly gripping her shoulders.

Jazz was pissed to say the least when Meg had told him what had transpired in the kitchen.

"So what are we gonna do? We have to get rid of this jack ass," Meg sighed. She looked over at Jazz who was sitting in a cross-legged position. His optics were shuttered closed and two of his clawed fingers were bent so that the tips were touching. The giant alien robot was meditating. So much for being ready to transform at a moment's notice.

"Jazz?...Jazz…Jazz!" The mech stretched out his left hand with one finger raised in a shushing motion. Of course he could have also been flipping Meg off since he didn't really have an index or middle finger. Before Meg could ask what he was doing, soft classical music began filtering out from him.

"They say a human's IQ raises when they listen to Bach. I'm just trying it out until inspiration hits me." Jazz returned to his meditative stance. If he started humming or floating, Meg was out of there.

* * *

"Here's the low down," Simmons said as he stood, arms crossed and legs wide, in front of the three towering mechs.

**"The squishie is trying to tell us something important," **Jazz translated for the linguistically challenged twins.

"You three are under government protection. You are to abide by the United States of America's laws as if you were American citizens. If you break those laws, there will be consequences."

**"We really need to get rid of him. Prime gave us permission to take care of Semens as need be as long as no bodily harm comes to him."**

"You are to respect my authority and treat me as you would a superior officer."

**"Psychological warfare is our best bet."**

"My commanding officer has assigned me the task of observing you and making sure that all is well."

**"Home base already started and it's our job to see it through to the finish."**

"If, for whatever reason, I deem that any of you are a hazard, there will be dire consequences."

**"Main objective is to get him to leave, but there will be high-grade to anyone who can get him demoted."**

"See this badge?" Simmons asked as he pulled a leather object from inside his blazer to flip it open, revealing a shiny badge and rather stern looking photograph. "This badge answers only to the president…not to any of the alien types."

**"Whoever gets the badge gets Prowl's security codes."**

"Am I understood?" Jazz snapped his heels together and pulled off a perfect salute while yelling out, "Sir, yes, sir!" The twins imitated the action right along side him.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Jazz called out while looking out straight ahead.

"Do I look amused?"

"Sir, I can't see you, sir! You are too short to be in my line of sight, sir!" Simmons bit back a retort. He should have known that Robo-Jesus would be difficult. High and Mighty probably told him to be.

"Are these two still deaf and dumb?" Simmons asked, motioning to the twins. Both mechs immediately caught on to the condescending tone and Sunstreaker made no effort to hide his low growl. He sounded just like a big cat at the zoo at feeding time.

"Sir, they have linguistic challenges, sir! But they have made the great effort to learn your name, sir!" Jazz still stood at attention but he caught Simmons' grimace in his peripheral vision.

"And _who_ exactly taught them my name?" Simmons dared to ask. If it was Robo-Jesus, he knew he was done for.

"Sir, the teenaged girl, designation Meg, taught them, sir! I figured it was the best since it is her native language, sir!" There was hope since it had been clear to Simmons the first time that they had met that the girl didn't have nearly as much gumption as Jock Bait and Jail Bait.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe lowered themselves to one of their knees, crouching their imposing figures low.

"Greetings.."growled Sunstreaker.

"..Agent Semens," came Sideswipe's acidly sweet voice. At the same exact moment, what served as the twins' mouths melted into wide, sadistic grins. Simmons gulped.

* * *

"Come on Jazz! We have to go!" Simmons heard the girl yell from outside. He immediately fell off of the couch in his haste to grab his pants. What the hell was a teenager doing up at seven o'clock in the morning? Even Army Wife was still asleep.

"Hey!" Simmons called out as the girl was lowering herself into the Solstice. "Where are you two going?" The girl, still in an awkward position looked over her shoulder.

"Into town to run some errands. I need to pick up some grain for the horses." By that time Simmons had caught up to them and was buttoning his white button-down shirt over his S7 undershirt.

"You sure you aren't going off to buy some more fun lacy things for the boys at Victoria's Secret?" The girl's face was deadpanned as she repeated her errand.

"And why is Robo-Jesus going with you?" The engine rose an octave as Jazz responded for Meg.

"Because I get tired of being cooped up here. Need to get out a bit. You got a problem with that?" Meg's face looked completely impassive.

"Nope, no problem at all. And that's because I'm coming with you," the man declared as he walked to the other side of the car. Right when Simmons reached for the handle, the car jumped forward. It happened a few more time until the agent was able to grab on to the handle but Jazz was going to have none of that. The Pontiac bolted forward, making Simmons ski through the loose dirt, completely ruining his once shiny loafers.

Finally, Jazz came to a stop a few yards away and the door flung open. Simmons was wrenched off his feet and fell hard on his hip. Still holding the door handle, now with both hands, Simmons hauled himself up.

"Sorry, reflex. I don't like it when people grab me. But hey, if you wanted a little bit of Autobot anatomy 101, you shoulda just asked. I would be _happy_ to show you." Jazz's voice ended with his engine purring and Meg blushed from the driver's seat. How she managed to get inside while Simmons was playing Grab-the-Autobot was beyond the agent. Probably because Robo-Jesus liked the girl and let her get in before playtime started. So there was Robo-Jesus' weak link.

Simmons quickly got into the car and as the door shut, he leaned over to Meg to whisper in her ear.

"Look Victoria, I know your secret. So no fooling around, you hear me?"

"Or what? Are you going to tell my mom that my car is an alien robot?" the little brat, newly deemed Miss Priss, shot back with a raised eyebrow.

"I've got my ways you little-" Simmons was cut off as Jazz's accelerator plunged down.

The silver sports car rocketed forward with too much power for even a racecar. The scenery flashed by and Simmons was plastered to his seat. They were on the road in a matter of seconds. Robo-Jesus whipped around the turns, flinging Simmons against the glass window. The agent desperately tried to find a grip but just when he was about to, Robo-Jesus flung him away from it.

It was like he was riding the rollercoaster his so-called friends had forced him to ride at the theme park. And for once, Simmons was wrong about the nicknames he gave. There was nothing Christ-like about this robot; in fact Simmons was pretty sure that he was riding in the Anti-Christ. The agent didn't let out a scream until he saw the 18-wheeler and Robo-Anti-Christ stepped up his speed, heading straight for the formidable rear end of the road giant. The truck's horn blared as the driver must have seen the speeding sports car in the side mirror.

"Jazz? Don't you dare! You'll get us killed!" Miss Priss cried. At least Simmons knew he wasn't the only sane one, not that it mattered considering who was in control of the car.

The car seemed to ignore her as he only increased his speed. Trying to avoid the relatively slow moving hauler on the two-lane road, Robo-Anti-Christ swerved into the oncoming lane. Just in time to see an approaching 4x4 diesel truck. Miss Priss screamed something incoherent and Simmons was surprised by what a high pitch she was able to reach. Then he briefly realized that it had been him screaming, not the girl.

Robo-Anti-Christ continued into the death trap, creeping up alongside the 18-wheeler that had once been blocking them from an open lane. There was no way that they could possibly make it in front of the semi-truck and not manage to be turned into an accordion by the 4x4. Just as the oncoming diesel truck was nearly on top of them, Jazz swerved to the right. Both passengers were flung to the left, arms and legs flailing in all directions. Simmons gripped on to the seatbelt and mentally recited the rosary.

For a brief moment, they were directly beneath the trailer, as if Robo-Anti-Christ was showing off. Then in one fluid motion, they were on the other side. In reality it was only a three inch drop off of the asphalt and onto the dusty stretch beside the road, but Simmons felt like he was never going to stop falling. Robo-Anti-Christ fishtailed as the tires sought traction in the loose dirt.

The Solstice surged forward and easily passed the 18-wheeler who was still blaring its horn. As Robo-Anti-Christ remounted the pavement, the unbelted Simmons was flung upward to hit his head on the roof to then recoil into the window.

"Shoulda put the seatbelt on Agent Semens," the hellish voice from the speakers laughed. A seatbelt shot around Simmons and clicked firmly into place. However, seatbelts proved pointless as another burst of speed had Simmons pinned into the leather seat. High pitched screams of terror filled the cabin.

When they were out in the middle of no man's land, Simmons had had enough. He was getting out of Robo-Anti-Christ even if it meant he would die trying. He began fumbling with the door handle but when he would pull it, the door was unresponsive. Finally, the handle jerked out of his hands and stayed firmly in place no matter how hard he pulled.

"Hey! Dontcha be yanking my parts," the speakers said.

"I want out God damn it!" Simmons screeched.

"All right," the car said with a shrug. Jazz hit the brakes and the action was quickly followed by the cacophony of squealing tires. Simmons rebounded as he flew forward and then jerked back into his seat by the seatbelt.

There was no restriction as Simmons tore out of his seat and out of the car. He spun around to face the car, backing up and nearly falling over his own feet.

"You-you-you tried to assassinate me!!" he accused, pointing a finger at the seemingly harmless car. Miss Priss was huddled in there with a look as if she had just been told that her favorite line of bras had been discontinued.

"Come on, you ain't _that_ special. Who the hell would want to assassinate _you_?" The insult instantly washed away any previous terror although the adrenaline was still pumping full force.

"Plenty of people thank you very much! I'm a very important person!"

"And I'm sure yo momma tells you that everyday. Now come on, stop wasting our time and get back in." Simmons began to hastily resume his retreat by a few yards.

"No, absolutely not. No…fucking…way." The man was jerking and his eyes were bugged out.

"What drugs are you on man, and do you mind sharing? It looks like you are having one kick ass trip."

"G-go! J-just go!" The door slammed and Robo-Anti-Christ actually shrugged on his wheels.

"Aight, have it your way." With a roar of his engine, the spawn of Satan was flying back down the road.

Simmons watched Robo-Anti-Christ disappear into the horizon before he began jerkily walking back towards the ranch. Every once in a while his shoulder would raise up in a nervous tick.

As soon as Jazz was far enough away, Meg crackled and revealed a robotic face. She returned back to normal and then the hologram fizzled away.

* * *

Meg was just adding water to Trouble's kibble when she noticed a man limping towards the house. She hastily put the food bowl down and ran outside to see what was going on. Jazz was in his alt mode, as quiet and innocent as could be which slightly eased Meg's fears. Jeanne bolted out of the door, shot gun in hand.

"Who are you?" the mother called out. When there was no response, she cocked the gun. That got the man's attention. He raised up his hands to placate the aggressive mom. Even at the distance Meg was at, she could see the torn clothes covered in dirt and grime. One arm of the dark beige jacket was ripped off to reveal the light beige long sleeved shirt beneath. The pant legs were hanging in tatters.

Nervously, Meg took a few steps toward Jazz's front bumper. She would have gone closer to her mother but the woman was damned frightening with the shotgun at the moment. Seemingly, at the same exact moment, both women realized who it was.

"Simmons?" they chorused. The man nodded his head in affirmation before resuming his stiff walk.

When he was closer, Meg saw that one of the lenses from his sunglasses had popped out and every inch of his exposed skin was burned. Simmons took off the broken glasses to reveal a bizarre burn over his eyes. He tried his best to level a look at Meg but there was no way she could take him seriously in the state he was in. The girl burst out laughing.

"I..am _not_…going…_anywhere_," he promised in a low, pained voice. Then he walked forward and into the house. Jeanne had turned around to watch him go inside and she had the most bewildered expression on her face. She muttered something about a lot of aloe vera and then followed the burnt agent inside.

Alone in front of the house, Meg leveled a look at Jazz. The Solstice's engine purred as it rolled slightly forward and began rubbing his front bumper back and forth against Meg's leg. Apparently he had seen her wooed over by Zoe after the cat brought in the gopher the day before.

"You know you're going to Hell for that, right?" Jazz stopped, his bumper still pushing heavily into Meg's leg.

"Already have my spot reserved with the twins."

* * *

_Thud! _Meg bolted upright in her bed, heart hammering in her chest. Zoe had flown off the bed and was hiding somewhere beneath.

_Thud-thud-thud-thud!_ Angry gibberish sounded muffled from somewhere in Meg's room. The girl bolted up and out of her bed. At that point Trouble finally woke up but he misjudged his distance from the edge and rolled right off. His _thud_ caused another _thud _above her. Meg finally put it together that it was coming from the roof. A few sleepy moments passed with a slow moving thought process. There's something on the roof…that isn't supposed to happen…something suspicious was going on…Jazz.

The girl walked over to her window and pushed it up to open it. Leaning precariously out, she gripped the windowpane and twisted so that she could look up. At first she didn't see anything but when she yelled out to get their attention, she heard footsteps approaching her on the steeped roof.

A dark bulky shadow appeared on the shadow of the roof on the ground. Meg automatically knew it was Semens.

"…How did you get up there?" Meg called up to the roof.

"Why don't you ask your FOB friends?" Simmons spat back. At least Jazz was in the clear this time.

"What the Hell is going on here?" Meg looked back inside her room to see her mom standing in the doorway, her hair a complete frizzy mess from having just woken up.

"Simmons is on the roof," Meg explained simply. Jeanne's eyes widened and her mouth slightly dropped.

"Please tell me you're joking," the women asked, a slight edge of desperateness in her voice. Meg shook her head and stepped back from the window.

A long string of curses erupted from Jeanne as she saw Simmons' shadow on the ground below them. He was still perched on the roof, squatting by the looks of his shadow.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing up there?"

"A quarter in the swear jar," Meg piped up. Her mother whirled on her, her dark look suggesting that the wise cracks go on hold.

"The..um, the cat was up here," Simmons hastily explained.

"Zoe's under my bed," Meg yelled, loud enough for the stranded agent to hear.

"You know what? _I don't want to know_," Jeanne said as she stalked away from the window. "Meg, come help me with the ladder. God damn it, the house was supposed to _calm down_ with Andrew going off to college."

* * *

**"You're lucky he didn't fall," **Jazz said. Despite his reprimand he was actually quite giddy with how well this was going. Who knew watching someone piss off Sunstreaker could be so much fun?

**"He'd deserve it**," Sunstreaker growled. "**Whoever scratches my armor deserves the worst kind of death."**

**"Hate to break it to you, dear brother of mine**,**"** Sideswipe said with an enormous smile. **"****But you're so fragged up that I don't think that anyone would notice the little dent that guy put into your leg."**

**"Especially since **_**you**_** are the one who decided to step in front of his car when he was trying to drive**,**"** Jazz added.

**"The thing has steering,"** was Sunstreaker's only response before he walked off back into the oak grove. Sideswipe smirked in his brother's direction.

**"He didn't have to rip the roof off though. Even I have to admit that that was a bit too much." **Both mechs looked at the form of silver twisted metal that somewhat resembled a car.

**"Hey, Semens shouldn't be complaining. He's got an instant convertible. Meg says that people spend a good amount of finances for one of those cars,"** Jazz pointed out.

**"Exactly! I don't understand why he had to get all twitchy." **Jazz laughed as Sideswipe did a rather good impersonation of Simmons' shocked expression as he was grasped in Sunstreaker's hand while the mech flung the roof like a Frisbee.

**"Don't worry, this is good for us. We're one step closer to gettin' rid of Semens and in addition to that, we finally have a target to see if your weapons are in working order,"** Jazz told Sideswipe with a satisfied grin.

**"That just shows you that we really do have Primus' blessings as we perform this holy work."**

* * *

Meg marched into the barn, her fists clenched and eyes blazing with entrapped anger. Her mom had to go to work that day and Simmons had stayed at the ranch saying how he wanted the Army Brat's view on her father being off to war. That was how her name went from 'Miss Priss' to 'Army Brat'. She didn't know what she was going to do if that jackass called her 'Army Brat' one more time.

She quickly fed the horses and moved on to the goats when Chupacabra butted his head against the stall door, causing the whole wall to shake. Suddenly, Meg knew _exactly _what she was going to do with Semens. While the goats were eating, she went inside and locked Trouble and Zoe within the house. No need for them to get hurt. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were somewhere far off and wouldn't get in the way. Jazz was quietly sitting in his alt mode, probably still in recharge as he soaked up the sunlight.

The girl jogged over to Jazz and rested her hand on his warm metal. He showed that he was awake by shifting on his wheels and muttering something in his own language.

"Sorry to wake you up but I need your help with this." Jazz's attention was immediately held.

* * *

Meg watched Semens walk stiffly from the house, probably still nursing his sunburns. She still wasn't sure exactly how he had gotten them but she wasn't about to ask questions since she had a fairly good idea that Jazz had been involved.

"Didn't you break the rules by letting him get that sunburn?" Meg whispered to the car she was crouched behind.

"Not my fault he didn't put on that lotion that protects your skin from UV rays," Jazz whispered back, his windows barely open so that she could hear him.

Semens stood on the porch, looking around for her. Meg lowered herself to lie on her stomach and looked beneath Jazz's undercarriage. She waited until she saw Semens' feet, now wearing her father's embarrassing sandals since the loafers were completely and utterly ruined, walking towards the barn. Meg got to her feet, careful not to raise up too high and reveal herself, before turning around and darting to Jazz's other side.

By the time that she had made it to his other wheel, she laid back down. Looking beneath Jazz, she could see Semens' struggling to get the barn door open. It didn't help that his hands were completely fried. Meg held back a snicker as Semens' pulled the door open and disappeared into the dark interior. There was no doubt that he was looking for her but he was going to find a lot more than he bargained for.

There were a few quiet moments that passed by in which Meg rose to her knees and looked over Jazz's hood at the barn. Suddenly there was a loud bang as something hard collided with wood. A very high-pitched cry echoed from the barn and Semens' came running out with the goat from hell in close pursuit. In one fluid motion, Meg was atop of Jazz's roof and out of the line of fire. Chupacabra was still petrified of Jazz, especially after the goat had climbed on to the Solstice's hood. The barnyard animal landed a good thirty feet behind the Pontiac after Jazz used his hood to fling the sucker.

Meg happily watched Semens' running for his life with Chupacabra in hot pursuit. Looks like she forgot to lock Chupacabra in his stall. Oops. The man ran eccentric patterns trying to get away from the satanic goat but Chupacabra proved to be rather agile. Semens' seemed to finally take notice of Meg's sanctuary but when he began heading over, Jazz's engine roared to life in an open threat not to get near him. Semens' backpedaled quickly only to forget how close Chupacabra was to him. The goat headbutted the man's legs right out from under him. Meg winced as Semen's hit the ground on the back of his shoulders, the wind, no doubt, knocked right out of him. Right when Chupacabra was rising up on his back hooves to come down and strike the agent, Jazz's horn blared. The goat skittered away, giving Semens' a chance to get to his feet. But that was all the help that the agent was going to be getting.

The moment that Semens was on his feet and realized that there would be no more aid, he was off and running. The agent spotted an oak tree and ran towards it. He pulled himself up into the branches just as Chupcabra's horned head hit the trunk. The impact made Semens' lose his grip slightly and he had to pull his legs and rear up to avoid Chupacabra as the goat reared up and tried to strike him.

Meg had her hand over her mouth, trying her best not to burst into laughter. Her eyes were starting to water up from the effort.

"Looks like we have an audience," Jazz told her. Meg turned around and saw Sunstreaker and Sideswipe outlined in distance. The girl raised one hand high up into the air and waved. One of the figures, most definitely Sideswipe, waved back.

* * *

Sideswipe was ecstatic. He had no idea that organic creatures could be so much fun! Sneaking over to the barn in the middle of the night, Sideswipe started enacting his plan. The mech carefully rolled back the stable door and crawled inside. He barely managed to squeeze his arm in and then reach into the closest stall. There were loud snorts coming from the furthest stall and the dappled horse was watching him curiously.

** "Now, this is our little secret, okay?" **the mech told Valor. The horse continued watching him, head raised high and ears pricked forward in nervous curiosity.

The mech struggled to catch the bleating goats as they dashed around the stall and it made it especially difficult since the stable's architecture didn't allow him to see within the stall while his hand was in there. Finally, he caught the largest creature and he knew he had the right one as it started headbutting him. The hits made his armor smart but he was willing to put up with it. Gently, he curled his three fingers around the furry creature and pulled his hand from the stall.

He backed out of the stable and then quietly rolled the doors shut. He kept a tight, yet gentle, grasp on the struggling goat. He was half way to the house when he felt the organic creature stiffen in his grasp right before he felt the sensation of a multitude of warm mushy _things_ in his hand. From having seen Valor out in the field, Sideswipe knew instantly what the creature had just done in his hand. And if he wasn't so devoted to his mission, he would have squished the goat right then and there when he felt the warm liquid.

**"And this is why Sunstreaker would never be able to handle these missions. No self-sacrifice," **Sideswipe muttered.

The mech was cursing to himself in his processor until he realized an advantage to his unfortunate predicament. With a wicked grin, Sideswipe found the window that looked into Simmons' room. Using his free hand, the mech delicately pushed the window up with one finger until it slid open. From there, he transferred the goat to his clean hand, mindful to muffle the bleating. As carefully as he could, Sideswipe put the dirty hand into the room.

Semens was fast asleep and Sideswipe's bright blue optics zoomed in the man. His HUD told him that the agent was asleep but would easily wake up if given a reason to. The mech carefully picked up Semens' pants and wadded it up in his hand, getting the excrements all over the material. Sideswipe pulled his hand back out and peered around the room. He located a bag that was wide open and full of the material that Semens' clothed himself with. Sideswipe reached back into the room and pulled out as much of the material as he could, smearing the excrements all over it. He especially took care to get the clothes that were still neatly folded since his HUD told him that they were yet to be used due to lack of skin follicles and sweat.

Once that stage was complete, Sideswipe took his hand out and quickly placed the hand holding the goat within. He quickly let go of the goat and shut the window. The mech ran away as fast as he could without making any noises. Taking off for the hills, literally, Sideswipe didn't slow down until he was out of eyesight of the house. Coming down to a walk, the mech peered at his hand and sneered when he saw that some of the disgusting feces was still smeared on his hand. He was about to wipe it off in the dirt when a better idea processed itself. Time to go find Sunstreaker and Jazz and give them a well-deserved pat on the back.

* * *

Meg stood at Jazz's feet as they saw the retreating vehicle driving away. Semens' had to call in for a ride since Sunstreaker had totaled the government vehicle he had come in. The girl felt bad for whoever was driving because Semens was _rank _with an attitude to match. When the billowing dust cloud had died away and there was no sign of the car, Meg looked directly up at Jazz.

"Proud of yourself?" The build of his chest prevented her from seeing his face from where she stood but she knew he was smiling.

"We really outdid ourselves. A true team effort. Optimus will be proud," Jazz said, pretending to wipe an imaginary tear from his optic.

**"I'm glad to be rid of him,"** Sunstreaker muttered. **"Why couldn't we have just squished him?"**

"**Against orders my psychopathic friend,"** Jazz replied. He felt Meg lean into his leg and was glad that she was unaware of what Sunstreaker had just said. **"So how do we find out if we got him demoted? I want that high-grade,"** Sideswipe asked. Jazz glanced over at the mud covered, newly dented mech. Sideswipe certainly got what was coming to him when he tried to get the disgusting organic feces on his brother and Jazz.

**"I'll have someone find out for us," **then in English he thought aloud, "Too bad no one was able to get his badge," Jazz said. There was a slight shift against his leg. Meg gave a whistle and a few moments Trouble came bounding over.

When he saw the drool streaming down from the dog's mouth, Sunstreaker took several steps back and activated the gun mounted on his wrist. Trouble trotted over to Meg and obediently sat at her feet. Jazz took a few steps back to see what she was doing. The girl knelt down and ordered Trouble to 'give'. With two fingers pinched an edge of the black object, Meg yet again told Trouble to let go. The Doberman whined as he looked up at his new toy, hoping that Meg would throw it for him to chase. Holding it at a distance from her, Meg stood up and turned around. She held the slimy and gnawed on leather case for Simmons' badge.

"Payback is a bitch. Simmons refused to clean up his room after we got Chupacabra out. So I did and he had left his bag open. I figured that Trouble needed a new toy so I gave it to him for a bit," Meg explained.

"That's my girl!" Jazz laughed. Then he grimaced at the sorry state of the badge. "I don't think any of us want _that_ thing anymore." Meg looked at it, agreed, and tossed it over her shoulder to Trouble who caught it midair.

* * *

_**Author's Note: That was such a fun chapter to write. I had to make sure that everyone got their part. I'm not sure which was better between Jazz and Sideswipe. Of course Sunstreaker and Meg had their fair share! : ) Please review!!**_


	9. Chapter 8

**_Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reads and reviews!! And Frog1, there's a special little part in here just for you!! ; ) _**

"You have got to be kidding me," Meg muttered under her breath as she scrolled down on the computer screen. She pulled her legs closer to her chest as she perched upon the desk's chair, her eyes devouring what was displayed in front of her. The profile's picture was of a silver Pontiac Solstice although this one was of a professional background photograph versus a personal picture. There was no portrait of this DaJaM but the more that Meg read on the profile, the more she knew that she wouldn't be finding a portrait.

Meg had been minding her own business, surfing on the social networking website that turned procrastinating into an art form. She had gone into her inbox and there had been a friend request. The request wasn't from anyone that she recognized, some guy who called himself DaJaM, but she decided to check it out anyway. The more she checked out the profile, the more she began to think it belonged to Jazz. But the fact that Jazz would have a Facebook page was mind-blowing. For some strange reason that fact was more unbelievable than his very existence was. The picture of the kitten with its paws up and splayed out with the caption "Jazz hands" was the final proof that Meg needed.

"You gonna add me or what?" Meg gave out a very unlady-like shriek as she tumbled from the chair. She looked over to where Jazz's voice had come from and saw his smiling face filling the window that looked into the family room.

Scowling, Meg pulled herself up onto her feet before settling back onto the chair in a position that would make it less likely for her to fall again.

"Are you sure that it's a good idea having a Facebook page? I mean, you're kind of in hiding right now."

"Naw, it's cool. You gonna add me?"

"Yeah sure…" Meg muttered as she looked at Jazz's profile more carefully. "You have more friends than me?! How the hell did you get more friends then me?!" Jazz laughed and gave a cocky shrug.

"What can I say, the ladies love me." And to Meg's continued disbelief, she saw that a vast majority of Jazz's 237 friends were indeed female. The comments that they were leaving him made Meg blush and scroll back up so she wouldn't have to look at them.

"You are unbelievable," Meg muttered, shaking her head.

"Would you really expect anything less of me?"

"And cocky," Meg added under her breath.

"Actually that is impossible considering I don't have a-"

Meg reached for a half filled waterbottle and flung it out the window. Jazz was able to dodge it so that it avoided hitting the center of his face but it did hit his chassis. For a moment the window was unfilled but a few moments later, Jazz peeked in with his battle visor and mask in place.

"I did _not_ need that mental image you perv," Meg practically growled. When the mech saw that her hands were free, he retracted his visor and mask. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly he twisted around, his body tense and alert.

Jazz looked around to see what entered his scanner's range. When he saw two young males driving down the driveway, he recognized them as the two kids that Meg distracted in their first encounter.

"Looks like your boyfriends are coming to visit," Jazz gave as an explanation before he darted away. The mech was gone in an instant and it took Meg a moment to realize that he was gone. Blinking a few times, Meg finally heard the rough sputtering as a corroding pick-up truck trudged up the lane towards the house.

Meg languidly let her legs drop from the desk before pulling herself to her feet. Her guess, and she knew that she was right, was that it was Randy and Grady who were coming to pay a visit. What they wanted, she had no clue. Meg grabbed a hoodie and tugged it over her head as she walked to the front door. Not being able to get enough sleep the previous night thanks to her car alarm which refused to keep quiet, the girl was not in the best of moods. By the time she was at the bottom of the porch steps, the clunking truck was pulled up several yards in front of her.

The boys smiling at her from the debilitated truck were clueless to the simmering explosion of feminine attitude. Randy was practically hanging out of the passenger window, a suspicious bottle in his hand while Grady peered around the swaying bulk of his friend. The girl crossed one arm around her torso while rubbing her temple with her free hand. Her chin was tucked down but her eyes flicked up. Boys were so stupid. A crash sounded from the back of the house followed quickly by her car's alarm. Apparently it didn't matter what planet the boys were from.

"Meg!"

"Randy!" the girl called right back with sarcastic excitement.

"Cow tipping!" With far too much exuberance, Randy raised both of his arms into the air triumphantly. No longer did he have anything supporting him and the drunken youth tumbled right out of the truck to land on his face.

Both Meg and Grady heaved a sigh as Randy unhooked his boots from the windows. Randy stumbled to his feet, waving the bottle around. He weaved his way to Meg but when he tried to put his arm around her shoulders, she easily stepped out of the way. The boy lost his balance and plopped down on the porch steps. He held his bottle up to show that there was no lose of precious liquid before he took a long swig. Meg rolled her eyes before looking over to the designated driver who was still laughing in the cab.

Her arms still firmly crossed, Meg raised her eyebrows at the sober Grady.

"What the hell is the drunk talking about?"

"We're goin' cowtippin' on ol' man Hensen's ranch." He also raised an unopened six pack to show that it would be a lot better once a few tabs were popped.

"Why?" Meg asked incredulously. Grady shrugged his shoulders and even beneath the low rim of his baseball cap, his hazel eyes were sparkling.

"Why not? You know somethin' better to do in this God forsaken town?" Meg opened her mouth to respond but swallowed back her words. Not everyone had three intergalactic robots to entertain them. So instead Meg just shook her head.

Randy caught her eye and he gave her a goofy grin before taking a swig from his bottle. He winked before hauling himself to his feet and stumbled back over to the truck. He tried several times to open the door he had fallen out of but with no luck. Finally, after giving the car a firm kick, he lurched to the bed of the truck. The first time he tried to climb up, his boot slipped on the tire but the second time he flipped right in. The boy completely disappeared from sight within the bed.

"Damn it!" he cried. A moment later he popped up and flung himself into the open back window, groping for something inside the cab. Grady scowled and hit him back.

"Save me some for later!" the designated driver growled, shoving his friend back into the bed of the truck. Randy was able to grab another bottle and happily slipped back into the truck bed.

"You wanna come my little Buckle Bunny?"

"No Side-" Meg's eyes widened at her mistake. Grady cocked his head in confusion but Meg's mind sprinted for a cover up. "Besides, Hensen is gonna shoot your skinny ass if he catches you."

"Which is half the fun!" Randy called out. Grady just winked in agreement as he chewed on his gum.

"I think I'll pass being shot at for today."

"Aight, your choice," Grady shrugged. He threw the clunker of an ancient truck into gear. The engine sputtered a few times but it did respond when the boy pressed down on the accelerator. The drunken passenger in the truck bed was thrown forward and then crashed back into the rear window.

Meg waved to them as they left, Randy waving so hard that he almost fell over. The moment that they were out of eyesight, Meg felt the ground shake beneath her feet.

"You almost slipped," Jazz said with more amusement than admonishment. Nevertheless, Meg's face flushed and she looked away from the towering giant standing beside her.

* * *

Randy and Grady were by no means worthless. They had a myriad of talents in varying fields: they could perform any task on their families' ranches, were both on the honor roll at school, could rope and brand cattle, outrun any bull (except Big Red but that thing was a freaking monster) and most importantly, to them anyways, they could drink their way to pure bliss.

It was their tradition to go out at least one night a month to the abandoned Stephenson ranch. Their code name for the special event was 'cow tipping' after the country myth that they used against their city dwelling cousins. While that night didn't involve abandoning family members amidst a herd of cattle in search of the mythical cow that slept standing up, there was the customary goal of drinking themselves into a stupor. And that goal had been reached and then some. Completely inebriated, the boys were sprawled out on the rickety furniture that was one more termite bite away from collapsing into a pile of dust.

"You know," Grady slurred, "every man needs this. It's why God put barley…on this earth."

"Praise the Lord!" Randy cried out as he raised a near empty beer bottle. To commemorate God's grand gifts, both boys took a long swig.

There was a long, deep silence that was only broken by the sounds of crickets and other night sounds. The silhouettes of bats were darting around in the full moon's soft gaze and glowing eyes watched them from the shrubbery encroaching on the abandoned ranch house.

"You know what? I think I know who I'm gonna marry," Randy drawled out. He idly swirled the remaining liquid in the bottle and seemed to be completely enraptured in the way it spun. For a moment it seemed like he had completely forgotten what he had said until Grady gave his best friend's boot a swift, and miscalculated, kick.

"I'm gonna marry Megan." The boy was lounging in the rocker but suddenly lurched forward when an idea crawled into his drunken mind. "I'm gonna go right now and propose." And with that, Randy stumbled from the rocker and tripped over his own feet as he attempted to go down the stairs. He started falling, the hand containing the beer bottle held up to keep the precious serum from spilling.

Grady stayed where he was on a crate, laughing his head off.

"You ain't gonna do no such thing. And her name ain't even Megan. It's _Marguerite_," Grady laughed. Randy spun around and nearly fell. He regained his balance and sent a nasty scowl towards his friend. With the hand holding his bottle, he pointed one wavering finger. Grady just laughed even harder.

"I think I know my future wife's name you sunuvabitch," Randy growled.

"You are one dumb ass," Grady quipped as he took a sip from his beer. He drained it and tossed it aside. He was just reaching for another one when Randy's foul breath was being breathed into Grady's face.

"At least I'm not the dumb ass who had his girlfriend makin' out with another girl."

The unopened can of beer completely forgotten, Grady shoved his drunken friend away.

"She was experimentin'! No need for your virgin ass to get jealous. Oh yeah, that's right, yo ass prolly ain't no virgin!"

Another thing that Randy and Grady excelled at was fighting…especially with each other. The crate was smashed into splintered smithereens as Randy tackled Grady. Both boys were entangled in a punching, kicking, scratching, spitting mess that toppled everything on the porch except for the alcohol. The few remaining full bottles and cans were left in an upright and safe position.

"At least I know my girlfriend's real name!" Grady took fistfuls of Randy's shirt and flung him to the side.

"What girlfriend?! The one who's getting' it on with the whole cheerleading squad?" Randy spat, literally, as he grabbed the visible hem of Grady's boxers and heaved upward. Grady howled and then whipped around to slug Randy with a punch that would leave a nasty black eye.

"At least I'm gonna have a chance to have one hell of a threesome or foursome or however many girls are on that damn squad! You ain't got no girlfriend to do that shit with! You just got your pillow to practice on! Why don't you get some Vaseline so you can pretend to be a big boy!" Randy retaliated with a punch of his own and then kicked Grady to the ground.

"You dimwitted asshole!" Grady quickly regained his footing only to realize that he was too close to the porch's stair case. Randy leapt forward and body slammed his momentary enemy to the already trampled weeds at the bottom of the stairs.

"Single bastard!" Grady brought up his knee and it connected into Randy's stomach.

"At least I didn't have to bring my cousin to formal!" Randy wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

"That wasn't me you ass! That was Fred Jenkins!" Grady jumped on top of Randy and was pulling his fist back to give him another black eye to match his other one when blaring lights lit up, consuming everything that they could see.

The boys froze, eyes squinted as their foggy brains tried to understand what had just happened and why it was suddenly looking like day time when it was night just a moment ago. However, they were able to quickly grasp reality when they heard the dreaded _whoopwhoop_ and chirps of a police siren. Randy and Grady stumbled to their feet, swaying slightly while their widened eyes tried to focus on the officer sitting behind the cruiser's blinding lights.

"W-we-we weren't do-do-doin' nothin' officer, w-we swe-swear," Grady stammered as he raised his hands up in innocence. Randy tried to do the same thing but somehow his equilibrium was thrown off by the simple action and he stumbled backwards to catch his balance.

"So you were doing something," a very loud, and slightly annoyed and by no means amused, voice called out from the speakers of the cruiser. Both young men winced, the loud voice not helping with their burning eyes.

"We just said we weren't doin' nothin'," Randy whined as he squinted. He tried taking a few steps to the side to get out of the light but a smaller light flickered on from its mount on the driver's door; they headlights stayed on Grady while the smaller, but just as bright, one followed Randy.

"Your poor use of grammar has led you to saying a double negative. By you saying you weren't doing 'nothing', you are saying that you were indeed doing _something_."

Grady and Randy exchanged confused looks before staring back into the light. There was an audible sigh and the lights shifted a little.

"We're sorry officer…we'll go home right now and never _ever _come out here again," Grady promised as he grabbed Randy's shirt sleeve and began dragging him away. The lights followed their movements.

"First of all, I'm not a police officer. I'm a lieutenant…a Sheriff lieutenant." Randy cocked his head in slight confusion.

"I know all the town's Sheriff _real well_ and you don't sound like any of 'em."

"Yeah, and lieutenants are suppose ta drive those fancy SUV's."

"I'm new and there was a cut in funds," the Sheriff quickly explained. "Now what exactly were you two doing out here?"

"Well," Randy said as he swaggered forward with a cocky expression on his face. "We certainly weren't doin' _somethin'_." Grady snickered, not at what his best friend said but the verbal ass whooping that the Sheriff was sure to give. He was not disappointed.

"I am not in the mood for your arrogant remarks, young one," the voice practically growled. "I have come a long way and I need information that I am sure that you two would normally be able to give me if neither of you were not intoxicated. Not to mention that, if I remember correctly, there are very strict laws in place that forbid minors from consuming alcohol. Since you seem to know my colleagues so well in this area, I am quite sure that they will know who I am talking about if I choose to mention our little run in."

"What you need?" Grady quickly asked, completely serious as much as his alcohol level would allow. There was no way he was going to get in trouble with the law again if he could help it. Randy wisely shut up, knowing that Grady was the better negotiator between the two.

"Do you know of a Marguerite?" the stern voice asked. Grady automatically started snickering which earned a scowl from Randy.

"We don't know any _Marguerite_," Randy snarled as he narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"Are you sure? It seems as though you do and you think it is funny to keep this information from me. And I can assure you, that the consequences of such actions are anything _but_ funny."

If the beer had run its course through their bodies, the boys would have pissed their Wrangler jeans in fear of the tone that the Sheriff had taken. With Grady trying his best not to laugh, it was up to Randy to get them out of the mess. Randy's mind tried working through the fog. Grady had just said that Meg's real name was Marguerite but Meg was never in trouble so he didn't know what this Sheriff wanted with her. And besides, Grady was probably just bullshitting with Meg's real name.

If he told the Sheriff about Meg, and it turned out that the information was wrong, then the Sheriff would be pissed. And no one wanted a pissed Sheriff who had dirt on them. Besides, if it turned out that Meg really was the girl that this guy was looking for, Randy could just say that he didn't know what her real name was. Couldn't get mad at ignorance.

"Naw, we ain't foolin' with you," Grady said before Randy could come up with a decision. As he spoke, he waved his hands as if to ward off ill feelings.

With a resigned sigh, the Sheriff told the boys to stop drinking and make sure they got home safely without driving. Grady and Randy fervently nodded their heads which only made them queasy. Grady had to run off and get out of sight as he threw up which left Randy cheekily waving good-bye to the Sheriff.

As the black and white cruiser left, Randy let himself fall to the ground and stare up at the clouds. Not too much later, there was crunching of grass and Grady's body also hit the grass beside his friend. A long silence swallowed the night as the animals that normally sang their chorus came out of their hiding after all of the strange activity ended.

"I love you man."

"I love you too…and Meg or whatever her name is." There was a pause before Grady spoke up.

"You never liked her until she got that car. That ain't love man. That's infa-tuation."

"I don't give a shit what it is. I always liked her and the idea of me drivin' that sweet ass car just gave me the balls to do somethin' 'bout it."

"Don't deny it bro, you just wanna drive that car." This time it was Randy's turn to pause.

"The car don't hurt nothin'."

* * *

A dark shadow with glowing blue optics crouched down behind the house, listening carefully to what the human adolescent males were speaking of. Prowl's little interrogation worked beautifully, just as all his plans seemed to do, and the humans spoke the truth as soon as the lieutenant had left. They had the girl's name, or at least the name that everyone knew her by, and that she had acquired a new car. No doubt what, or rather who, the car really was. With Jazz's location most likely located, they knew from Ratchet that the twins were close by. Which was why Prowl was so adamant on locating the twins before reporting to the Autobots' main headquarters.

Prowl had never said what exactly was contained in the message he received from Ratchet. The only thing that was mentioned of the mysterious, and by then infamous, transmission was that the twins needed to be located and, if need be, controlled before Ratchet let loose a bounty hunter.

That bounty hunter would most likely be Ironhide considering that Prowl had also mentioned that Ratchet wasn't going to keep quiet about who was really behind the prank that had entailed using a virus to disable not only Ironhide's beloved cannons, but also the weapons specialist's whole arsenal that he kept on his person. The explosion of an innocent barren planet that had occurred after a particular nasty run in between Ironhide and a group of Decepticons would be nothing compared to the rage that would be released upon the twin culprits if the truth was to be known.

Which was why Prowl had to step in before the Autobots' two best frontline warriors were taken out by 'friendly' fire. That, and no one had any idea why Optimus would have the twins under Jazz's guardianship. It was like giving Wheeljack free rein over a chemistry laboratory designated to explosive chemicals. No good things could come of it.

The hidden Autobot tore himself from his thoughts and concentrated on sneaking away without attracting too much attention. Soon they would be reunited with their comrades and even if those comrades consisted of the twins, there would be no doubt that there would be celebrations involved. Well, except for Prowl. Whenever Sunstreaker and Sideswipe was concerned, Prowl had his work cut out for him.

* * *

When Randy and Grady were living up to their talents, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were living up to theirs. Sideswipe sat beneath an oak tree, his arms pensively crossed over his charred chest. Sunstreaker ignored his brother as the less social twin laid out on an a massive flat rock, basking in the moonlight as well as staying away from the dirt.

**"I wonder what those humans meant by 'cow tipping',"** Sideswipe finally wondered aloud. He gave off the impression that he was merely talking aloud to himself but he wanted to know what Sunstreaker thought.

**"What the slag are you talking about?"** the other twin growled without even looking over at his brother.

**"Those two humans were talking about cow tipping. Apparently it's a source of entertainment here." **Sudden realization hit Sunstreaker and he swung to his feet. Sideswipe looked at him with feigned surprise.

**"How do you know what they were saying? We don't know their language."**

**"**Au contraire**, my dear slow processing brother. While you have been all doom and gloom, **_**I **_**have been listening to the language and learning."**

**"You aren't smart enough to pull that off." **Sideswipe honestly looked offended at Sunstreaker and he slightly was. Before Sideswipe's slip up when he landed them in the gladiator rings, the twin had been one of the most successful merchants on Cybertron. One of the necessities of the job was to learn languages by any means possible. It was a trait that Sideswipe prided himself on.

**"Don't be jealous that I can do more than stare at myself and kill things unlike **_**some**_** mechs I know,"** Sideswipe said with his acidly sweet smile. Sunstreaker glowered at his brother before laying back down.

**"So what does any of this have to do with this cow tipping?" **Sunstreaker asked, getting back on what would be considered a topic.

**"That's exactly what I plan to find out," **Sideswipe replied as he jauntily leapt to his feet and walked off.

Sunstreaker lingered a moment, trying to figure out whether or not he should follow his brother. At possible imbecile moments such as these, Sunstreaker had no problem being separated from his twin. However, Sideswipe had an amazing ability to get himself into trouble. That one talent always seemed to activate Sunstreaker's loyalty which the twin despised. So Sunstreaker sighed and languidly followed his twin. Sideswipe was waiting for him a short distance away, impatient that it took so long for Sunstreaker to decide to come.

**"Why haven't you told Jazz that you know some of the humans' language? Or started talking with the girl?" **Sunstreaker curiously asked. He knew that Sideswipe had a reason for playing dumb. There was always a reason with Sideswipe. Not that the reasons were always good ones or made sense.

**"I can learn more if they think I can't understand. Why do you think I was such a good merchant?" **Sideswipe admitted with a cocky grin. Sunstreaker shook his head.

**"One, you weren't a good merchant. If you were, we wouldn't have been sold into the gladiator rings in Kaon. Two, if you **_**were**_** a good merchant it was because you had no qualms about being a greedy aft."**

**"That second trait isn't that bad. And you shouldn't complain because those credits I earned bought you a slag-load of tools and metal for your engravings. And **_**I **_**wasn't the one who got us thrown in those Primus-forsaken rings. If I remember correctly, I was the one who got that little bargain that practically guaranteed us our freedom while **_**you**_** had to slag it all up by trying to kill all those damn Decepticons." **Sunstreaker immediately stopped, his working weaponry whining as they came on-line.

**"Don't you be blaming that on me you glitch. If it wasn't for that little business trip you just **_**had**_** to take, we wouldn't have gone to Kaon in the first place." **Sideswipe kept walking, unwilling to stop and quarrel with his brother. He shouted back at Sunstreaker without looking back.

**"And if it wasn't for you trying to interface with those femmes, we would have been out there a cycle before we came into contact with the mechs of those femmes." **Knowing that it was pointless to continue arguing but still royally pissed off, Sunstreaker spun around and decimated a boulder with one of his missiles. After making sure that there was nothing remaining, he retracted the missile back into his left upper chassis and jogged after Sideswipe.

**"Feel better?"** Sideswipe asked.

**"Much."**

* * *

After hours of scouring the country side, the Autobot twins finally found cows. It was in the dark early hours of the morning and they could hear and smell the herd before they could see it. Sunstreaker, catching the scent in his olfactory processors, immediately halted and refused to go any closer to the vile beasts. That left Sideswipe on his own.

The determined twin was willing to sacrifice in the name of entertainment as was shown by the goat and Semens. Sideswipe dropped to the ground and crawled up the hill to peek over the crest into the valley below. He say a myriad of the beasts, most of them very still by the looks of it. Knowing that Earth creatures had a 'flight or fight' habit after being stuck in the wilderness, Sideswipe knew that these organics would most likely flee upon sight of him. So the cow tipping must take place in stealth mode so the creatures wouldn't be awoken.

Sunstreaker watched his twin crawl over the crest. Curiosity getting the better of him, he jogged up the hill, ducking low to keep out of sight. Unwilling to lie down on the ground, Sunstreaker knelt on one knee as he peered down into the valley. He groaned as he watched Sideswipe shimmy down on his front armor, performing rolls, flips, and other needless acrobatics as he approached the recharging creatures.

As soon as he was close enough, Sideswipe crawled toward a creature that was slightly separated from the rest. It was asleep but still standing. The mech quirked his head in curiosity before pointing a finger and slowly moved it towards the cow. Gently, Sideswipe pushed the cow. Nothing happened. Again, he pushed the cow but harder.

This time the brown beast's eyes shot open. It froze for a moment before letting out a great cry and kicked at the mech. Sideswipe darted back but the cloven hoof made contact with his shoulder. It wouldn't have hurt if he wasn't still healing. Sunstreaker was down the hill the moment that he heard his twin cry out. However, the sociopathic twin fumbled to a halt, his optics wide. He watched as the two hundred-plus herd of cattle began milling about nervously.

It was if everything became slow motion. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were familiar with the sensation when they were in the middle of a battle. To them, time slowed when in reality time was still flowing at a rapid pace. Sunstreaker heard himself yell at Sideswipe as the downed twin hurled himself to his feet. Both took off running, Sunstreaker hanging back a few seconds until he was sure that his twin was alongside of him. Then they ran is if the reactivated corpses of all the Decepticons they sent to the Pit were chasing them.

* * *

Jazz knew better than to leave Sunstreaker and Sideswipe alone to their own devices. Whenever the pair thought that they weren't being babysat, Jazz was always within scanning distance. He had served on Special Ops for far too long not to be able to have a few tricks up his proverbial sleeve. So the moment that the destructive duo wandered out of scanning distance, Jazz was quick to follow.

The moment that the lieutenant heard about 'cow tipping', he did a quick Internet search. He found so many conflicting results that it was one of those rare instances in his life when he didn't know what to do. So, he went with the best plan he could think of: he brought Meg along.

The moment that he had asked her about cow tipping, the girl started laughing so hard that she had trouble breathing. She quickly caught her breath, however, when Jazz had told her which direction the twins were heading. The best way to describe her reaction would be an 'oh shit' moment. It wasn't very long until they were flying down the bumpy dirt road towards the Hensen ranch.

"Are you sure that this guy is really _that_ crazy?" Jazz asked, his voice slightly strained as he fought to keep from jarring himself and his passenger.

"He sleeps out with his cows because he's so paranoid that some teens are going to mess with them. So yes, he's really _that_ crazy," Meg responded as she gripped the door handle and arm rest with a white knuckled grip. "Ever since Randy started that stupid rumor about someone butt-raping Hensen's cattle, the man lost it. Grady thinks it has to do with the time he served in Korea."

Meg grimaced at how many times she had told her friends to lay off the poor old guy. He'd been through enough with the 'forgotten' war and Meg fully supported veterans just as she had been taught. Even so, her late grandpa had known Hensen from before the war and said that he was as crazy then as he was now. And crazy never mixed well with a surplus of sawed off shotguns, more than two hundred head of cattle, and two naïve aliens who were the equivalent to guys in their early twenties.

Jazz slowly crawled to a stop. Meg wondered why he was all of a sudden halting but she trusted that he would tell her when the time was right. Long moments of silence gave the air in the Pontiac's cabin a certain heavy feeling.

"Do you feel that?" Jazz nearly whispered. Meg waited, concentrating, but then shook her head. Suddenly, Jazz's engine turned off. It didn't take long for the girl to feel the vibrations. Her eyes shot wider and she asked with a great deal of desperation if Jazz knew where the source was coming from. His answer was his door flying open and his voice booming for her to get out.

Meg wasted no time in getting out of the Solstice and it felt that the moment that both feet were on the ground, she felt something brush against her hair. Before she could turn around to see why Jazz was transforming so close to her, she was whisked up into the air.

There was no doubt that Jazz was fast, especially since Meg had ridden in him so many times. But he turned out to be a damn fast runner too. He clutched the girl to his chest as he booked it away from the approaching stampede with the twins at the forefront. Jazz swung to the right and began running as fast as he metal legs could take him towards a slopping hillside consisting of giant cracked boulders. With ease, he vaulted up onto the nearest one, hanging on to the edge. He gently placed Meg on top. As the girl watched him jump back down and head back for the twins, she couldn't get the music from the Lion King out of her head. If Jazz was Mufasa in this situation, she was going to be pissed.

Once all three mechs had taken refuge behind the boulder Meg was on top of, the girl realized how rather funny it was that the giant mechs were running from the cattle; a creature who was just plain stupid and could be squished with one step. But then again, this wasn't a single cow that was chasing them. Hundreds of the bovines would knock the mechs' legs right out from under them and those horns could do a serious number in the gaps between the armor.

It wasn't long before an engine was roaring towards them, headlights flashing in all directions as Hensen's truck bounced along the terrain. Meg yelped as several bullets struck the boulder she was sitting on, plumes of broken off rock exploding upward. There was a quick whirring sound as Jazz's right arm and Sideswipe's left arm revolved into weapons. Meg, finding herself directly in between the massive guns, reached out both arms and began fervently pushing the guns back down. Jazz's arm immediately returned but it took a desperate and silent plea for Sideswipe to retract his weapon.

Another shot rang out, even closer to Meg this time and the girl slipped as she tried to scramble further down the rock to get some cover. Sliding down, she ended up right in Sideswipe's cupped hand. With glittering optics, he gently deposited her on his forearm which was bent at the elbow joint while his hand gripped onto the boulder. Meg gripped the metal armor making up his upper arm to keep her balance as she realized that this was the closest that she had ever been to either of the twins.

If it was possible, everyone was holding their breaths as the truck's engine came to an idling stand-still close by. The mechs were ducked behind the boulder, praying that their large frames were hidden. Meg felt Sideswipe tense up as if he was about to bolt at any moment. No one dared to move as they heard Hensen get out of the truck and walk through the grass.

"Who's there?!" he called out, cocking his shotgun. When there was no reply, the crazed old man shot into the air. Sideswipe's other hand immediately went to hover over Meg as if to grab her at a moment's notice if they had to run. Jazz and Sideswipe were deathly quiet as Sunstreaker nervously shifted as he fought the urge to just blow the man up.

"I know you're behind that goddamned boulder! I saw somethin' run back behind there, somethin' big!"

Jazz grimaced and mouthed out a few choice curses. He desperately tried to think of a plan, knowing that the man would come behind the boulder to investigate and ultimately find a hell lot more than he was expecting. The second-in-command looked over at Meg, who caught his attention. Her eyes were wide with anxiety and bordering on fear. She was silently pleading with him to find a way out of this mess.

Looking from her eyes, he caught the expectant gazes of the twin soldiers who were awaiting his command. All three were his responsibility and there was no way he was going to let them down by getting caught by the old man. The guy might have been unstable, but if the man could supply a story, the media would be in on it in seconds.

It hadn't taken long for the Autobots to realize that the media was like pack of predators and would jump on any chance of a story. There would be no befriending them if the news corporations found out about their existence and no way to keep their mouth shut. Everything about the media screamed predator…

Jazz smiled as an idea sprung into his CPU at the random path his thoughts had taken him. A predator. Sending a wink Meg's way, he snuck around the edge of the boulder just enough to stay out of sight while still being able to see around. He activated his hologram and formed a mountain lion at his feet. He maneuvered the cougar to stalk out from behind the rock and then freeze when Hensen's light found it. The big cat's tail twitched and tensed with alert. When the old man took a step forward and raised his gun, Jazz made his hologram recoil and snarl. Another step and Jazz's stereo literally roared.

No matter how many times Hensen shot at the cougar, it simply wouldn't die. He used a whole case of ammo before he realized that he was out. Jazz made the hologram chase after Hensen as the human dashed for the safety of his truck. Red tail lights bounced as the truck fled over the bumpy landscape. It wasn't until there was no sign of the truck, did everyone come out of their hiding places.

After Sideswipe gently deposited Meg on the ground, she walked over to the still activated hologram of the life-like cougar. She tried not to be hesitant but having lived so close with the real creatures, she was naturally nervous. When she was within touching distance, she looked over at Jazz who had a smile on his face but a slightly vacant look in his eyes.

"I won't bite," the cougar said in Jazz's deep voice, causing Meg to whip around to look at it. She looked from the hologram, to Jazz, then back to the cougar.

"I didn't know you could do that," she whispered in awe. The cougar actually smiled as it walked over to her and rubbed its cheek against her leg. The hologram crackled as it came in contact with her and actually went right through the girl.

"You are _so _cool," Meg said as she looked over her shoulder at Jazz with a shy smile. The vacant look disappeared out of Jazz's optics as the hologram dissipated into thin air. No one seemed to notice Sideswipe's look of displeasure at Meg's words or how he grumpily crossed his arms.

All of the mechs' features were cast into shadows from the moonlight above but their optics glowed brightly in the night. Jazz's glowed especially bright from the praise from his human. He always was one who loved attention.

Meg quickly looked back and forth between Jazz and Sideswipe. Nodding her head at the mechs standing behind her she pointed out an interesting fact.

"Apparently they know English considering that they were even able to fall for the whole cow tipping thing."

Both Jazz and Meg looked over at the twins. Sunstreaker had his arms crossed defensively over his chest and was scowling. Sideswipe just stood there looking completely clueless. There was no way that Sideswipe was going to give himself away. He could get so much more information if he just played stupid. It was a façade that he had used nearly all of his existence and it really did work.

"I guess you don't know that cow tipping is a total myth to get naïve city people ditched in the middle of a cattle pasture," Meg revealed with a smirk.

The look of disbelief instantly gave Sideswipe's secret away.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Yes, I did actually believe in cow tipping when I first started this chapter. It wasn't until I was looking up videos to see exactly what happened that I found out it was a myth...so they say. Who knows, maybe one day I'll figure out if it's real or not. And the other two mechs that are with Prowl are going to remain a mystery for a little while. : )_**

* * *


	10. Chapter 9

**_Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reads and reviews!!_**

Meg grimaced as she used two fingers to take the soggy ball from Trouble's mouth. Unable to resist herself, Meg turned around and extended the saturated tennis ball to Jazz. The Solstice's tires shot him back several feet, his engine revving to show that he was able to bolt at any moment if that ball came any closer. Trouble danced in front of her before dropping down so that his long legs splayed to be ready to bolt at any moment. His docked tail wagged back and forth with his big brown eyes darting between her and the beloved ball she held.

Not wanting to tease Trouble anymore, Meg turned back around and threw the ball as far as she could. The Doberman took off bounding in pursuit. The crunch of dirt told Meg that Jazz had returned to his previous space. By that time Trouble had run the ball down and was galloping back. The teenager grimaced yet again as she took the ball. If it wasn't for how much Trouble was enjoying himself, she wouldn't have even touched that disgusting thing with even her shoe.

Just as Meg was taking the ball from Trouble, the most devastating sound Meg had ever heard in her life came from within the house. The animalistic wail was so full of anguish and agony that the hair on the back of her neck rose up. Immediately she dropped the ball and took off running as fast as she could towards the house. Her heart was pounding and her sight became blurred but she pushed herself harder to the point that she nearly fell when leaping up the porch stairs.

Rounding into the kitchen, Meg had to grab on to the threshold of the door to steady herself. On the linoleum floor was her mother, sobbing as she clung to the phone. Meg ran over to Jeanne, dropping down to her knees. She ignored the pain that burst into her knees from the impact.

"What happened?! What's wrong?!" Meg pleaded. Thoughts of her father having been killed in action, or worse, gone MIA, flooded into her mind at an uncontrollable rate.

Jeanne tried to speak but she was sobbing so hard that she could barely breathe. Her crumpled face was bright red and covered in tears. There were no words to describe her despair. Meg clung to her mother as Jeanne made no attempt to control herself. Seeing the telephone still grasped in her mother's hands, Meg pried it away from her. With one arm wrapped around her heaving mother, she held the phone up to her ear. There was only the tone signaling that whoever had delivered the news had hung up.

Meg turned the phone off and tossed it to the side. Still kneeling she held her mother to her chest, trying desperately to calm her down. There was no warning as Jeanne finally spoke.

"_Andrew's_…_dead!_" she screamed, breaking into the sobs of excruciating sorrow. The sobs of a mother who had just lost her child.

Everything froze. Meg felt herself swaying as her mind went numb. She felt herself fall back and her arms fall from her mother. It was impossible. Her brother couldn't have been dead. No. No. _No!_

There was no way that Meg could console Jeanne and the daughter also knew that it would be impossible to get anymore information out of her. Meg wrapped her arms back around her mother and lifted her to her feet. Jeanne fell against Meg, unable to support her own weight. Slowly the girl walked her mom over to the couch were Jeanne collapsed. With her mother on the couch, Meg went back into the kitchen to fetch the discarded phone. Her hands were trembling as she reached down to pick it up. She stared at the numbers and then forced herself to scroll through the menu to find the last caller.

As the phone rang, Meg felt her feet walking. She kept walking when a male voice picked up the phone and announced that it was some police officer from the city that Andrew went to college at. She was half way to the barn when the officer began telling her what happened. She was in the barn aisle when he told her of the fatal car crash. She had collapsed to her knees in the soft shavings in Valor's stall upon hearing that the doctors had done all that they could. By the time that the officer had offered his sincere condolences, Meg was clinging to Valor's front leg. The numb girl said good-bye to the officer before hanging up and again tossing the phone aside.

Her eyes couldn't focus and all she could feel was her heart thudding in her chest and shallow breaths ebbing and flowing from her body. Shakily, she took a handful of Valor's dark mane and pulled herself to her feet. Meg wrapped her arms around the Andalusion's neck, pushing her cheek into his course mane. Her legs barely held her as she leaned into his chest, willing herself to cry.

* * *

Jeanne was inconsolable for days. Even after Darren came home from overseas, all Jeanne would do was lay sobbing on her bed, clinging on to Andrew's baby book. Meg and her dad were left with the funeral arrangements but since her dad had already buried his father, it was Darren who took care of everything. Darren broke down once when he first came home and saw Meg. He hugged his remaining child close to him as he cried. It was excruciating to see her strong, invincible father crying. All she could do was wrap her arms around his stiff military uniform, her cheek pressed against his many medals and pins indicating his rank.

For the most part, Meg avoided Jazz. She had told him what happened but she could hear in his voice that it was awkward for him because he didn't know how to respond. He wanted to comfort her, to make her misery go away but her grief wasn't something that he could just make disappear. He just didn't know how to console a human. There was no sign of Sideswipe or Sunstreaker, probably because they were laying low with all the activity around the house. Jazz had filled them in and all he had to say was that Meg's brother had been killed for them to understand.

It was the night before the funeral that Meg found herself yet again unable to sleep. Tired of laying in bed and suffering her headache, Meg slipped out of bed and into a sweatshirt and jeans. She snuck from her room, bare feet padding silently down the hallway and stairs. Her parents didn't hear the front door as she went out. Normally she would have gone to the stable to seek solace in Valor or go over to Jazz. But her body was taking her somewhere else entirely. Meg's mind was still in that haze that it had been in the moment her mother told her about Andrew.

Meg had no idea where she was going but she knew she had to get there. She ignored the pain as she stepped onto the rocks and sticks. Vaguely she recognized that it was dangerous to be outside because of the cougars. It took her a moment to remember that there were no cougars or coyotes within miles thanks to the Autobots. The girl pushed on through the brush, ignorant to the lithe presence following at a distance.

Finally her body came to a stop. She let out a sob at the sight in front of her. It was an enormous oak, at least fifty feet high. The ancient roots reared up from the ground, twisting and turning before plummeting back into the rich earth. Meg staggered to the trunk, staring upward. An abandoned tree house was resting in the expansive branches. Andrew had dubbed it Fort Humungo when Darren and the two siblings had finished building it. All Meg had done to help build it was bring her father and brother tools, food, and drinks since a four year old had been too young to do anything else.

Andrew had been the first one to bring her up into the tree house, since she had been too afraid to admit to her dad that she was scared of heights. Her big brother had always been there, offering her a helpful hand whenever she needed it. He had been a pain in the ass but she would have given anything to endure his embarrassing bear hugs again.

Meg collapsed on to the ground, her arms wrapped around her torso and forehead pressed against the tender oak leaves that had fallen. She choked out a sob but no tears came. So angry with herself, she formed such a tight fist with her hands that her nails cut into her palms. It hurt, but still, no tears. Eventually Meg gave up and crawled over to the base of the tree and curled up amongst the roots. She wouldn't go up into the tree house. Not without Andrew.

The girl had gone so numb that even though she heard the ground-quaking footsteps, she made no response. Warm metal wrapped around her, gently picking her up. Meg's eyes narrowly opened and she saw Sideswipe's concerned optics studying her. Sunstreaker was looking over his twin's shoulder. Sideswipe muttered something and even if it had been in English, Meg was doubtful that she would have understood. Sunstreaker responded before walking away. Meg closed her eyes again, letting herself fall into the contours of Sideswipe's gentle hands. For being such a brute, he could be surprisingly gentle at times.

It was some time before Meg heard Sunstreaker's heavy footsteps returning with a lighter sounding set. The lighter set was faster, jogging, and stopped first. She wanted to cry when she opened her eyes and saw Jazz. She reached out for him and Sideswipe obliged by handing her down. Jazz's claws wrapped gently around her, cradling her. Meg could feel her body begin to shake but still, no tears.

Jazz began walking back towards the house but Meg stopped him.

"I don't want to go back. Not yet." Jazz didn't say anything but he did return to the base of the tree where he had found her. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were looking on as Jazz settled between the thick roots, resting against the trunk that was so thick that he would have barely been able to wrap his arms all away around it. Sunstreaker rested a hand on his twin's shoulder, pulling him away. The two brothers disappeared into the chilly night, thankful for each other's company.

Meg rested her head against Jazz's chassis, pushing further into him.

_"It was an accident,"_ she could still hear the officer saying. _"Your brother was the designated driver and he and his room mates were driving home. Andrew was the only one who was sober." _Meg begged the inner voice to stop but it wouldn't. _"The drunk driver was traveling at high speeds and was on the wrong side of the road. The tread marks show that your brother tried to avoid them but they still collided. Your brother's car spun out and crashed into a light pole." _The shaking wouldn't stop. The voice wouldn't stop. Meg clung to Jazz, seeking sanctuary from her mind through him. He was the one car she knew she would always be safe in. _"The drunk driver sped off but we know from the wreckage what car he or she was driving. Your brother's friends were unharmed and, despite being intoxicated, managed to dial 9-1-1 but Andrew's injuries were fatal. He was resuscitated three times en route to the hospital but he finally passed away at 4:57 in the morning while in surgery." _Andrew had been brought back to life three times but it hadn't been enough. Why couldn't he have been like Jazz? _"I am deeply sorry for your loss. But he is no longer in any pain."_

"Six thousand teenagers die every year in car crashes..."Meg whispered. "Why did my brother have to be one of them?"

* * *

"A few days? You're staying home for only a few days?! My baby just _died_ and you're letting them take you away a day after the funeral?!"

"I'm lucky they even let me come home! Can't you see that?!"

Meg was already down the porch steps by the time that the screen door slammed shut, metal frame quivering loudly. The voices inside were still yelling so loudly that they filled the house and seeped outside. Meg skidded to a halt beside Jazz and her feeble attempt to hide her flooding emotions was failing rapidly.

"Can I-" Meg had to stop and check herself to keep from breaking down right there. "Can I stay with you for a little while? Until…until-". Jazz swung his door wide open for the girl so she didn't have to finish the sentence. Meg slipped behind the wheel as the door closed softly behind her. Whispers of the argument still echoed within Jazz and Meg couldn't tell if the yelling had just been that loud or if those echoes were just in her head. The girl curled up in the front seat and buried her head in her arms, trying to cover her ears as well as the rest of her body. She was unable to hold in the solitary whimper that escaped her.

"I can still hear them," she whispered.

More than anything Jazz wished he could reach out and console Meg, at least hold her against his chest so that she would know that not everything in the world would echo the shouting. But he couldn't and with the parents so close inside he couldn't risk driving her off especially when he doubted that she would have gotten permission to go out.

Unknowing of what to really do in the situation, Jazz let her wrap her own arms around herself. He knew that music was comforting to humans, and especially to Meg, but he had no idea what to play. So Jazz let his engine purr just loud enough to block the outside world. The soft sound reverberated throughout his body and Meg could feel it through the smooth leather seats. Soon it coursed through her body and replaced the yelling that had previously echoed through her mind.

The soft purr flowed into different tones, rising and falling in a sweetly strange musical sort of way. There was no comparing the alien music to anything that Meg, or even Jazz, had heard before. As a soldier Jazz had never had to show this kind of tenderness, not even to the femmes he had worked with. His kind was just not sentimental with each other unless they were of the closest of bonds. Jazz just let his engine purr in a way that reminded him of the way that Meg hummed to Valor when the horse had been frightened in the thunderstorm.

Meg pushed herself further into the seat, letting her tears fall freely and quietly. Her green eyes shimmered and the tears gave them a bluish quality, like the beautiful seas in the tropics were people claimed they lived a carefree life. With one hand she clutched the edge of the seat so tightly that the knuckles of her shaking hands were turning white. Every once in a while she would feel Jazz shift as if to let her know that he was still there with her, holding and comforting her in the only way he could.

The musical humming of the Solstice's engine continued well after Meg had let herself be lulled to sleep. Her tears continued falling even as she slept, and slipped down her cheek to come to a rest on Jazz's leather seat that she had her cheek pressed against. The beautiful tones continued in her lightly sleeping mind and in her finally peaceful sleep, Meg could feel Jazz's arms wrapped around her and hear his comforting sweet nothings being hummed into her ear.

* * *

Things would never return to normal after Andrew's passing. But Darren did return overseas to his troops and eventually Jeanne forced herself to go back to work. She didn't work as many hours as she had before but during her time off she spent time away from the familiarity of the house where she had raised her children. For the moment, Meg was the forgotten child but she was all right with that. Whenever she and her mother were in the same room together, the grief covered them in a thick invisible fog that they couldn't see through.

Meg spent a lot of time with the three Autobots or riding Valor. It still felt that her heart had been ripped out but she no longer felt as if she was drowning. In a sense, she had become numb to everything and everyone in her life. Jazz was worried but at the same time he was amazed that the way humans coped with grief was the same way his kind coped with it.

For the most part, Meg was quiet. She would do her chores, her homework, talk a bit with Jazz, talk to Sideswipe as he pretended he couldn't understand, and spent a lot of time riding Valor down the trails. More than anything she valued the alone time she had with the Andalusian. Unlike Jazz or Jeanne, there wasn't that uncomfortable weight to talk. All Valor wanted was to stretch his legs and eat grass. No emotional pressure on Meg's part.

Even though it seemed like Meg had begun distancing herself from Jazz, they both knew it wasn't the case. When the girl began wearing a peculiar bracelet, she explained why to the Autobot without any pressure from him.

"Andrew gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday," Meg explained as she let Jazz examine the bracelet. It was made of wood and black marble beads, the black beads the size of a pencil eraser with the wooden beads slightly bigger. Two black beads separated the wooden beads which had strange symbols burned into them. With some help from the world wide web, Jazz found that the symbols meant 'happiness' and 'strength' in the Earthen language of Chinese.

"He would have wanted me to wear them now," the girl whispered as she took the precious jewelry back from Jazz and slipped it back onto her wrist. Jazz nodded in agreement.

* * *

Once again, the girl acquired little to no sleep. It wasn't because of her thoughts wandering to Andrew or the rickety relationship she had with her mom. It was because her damn car alarm kept going off. At four o'clock in the morning, the tune from hell began echoing into the dark recesses of the early morning. Meg groaned as she turned over in her bed, burying her head beneath the pillows. All she really accomplished was to get tangled up in the sheets and to make the horrible diddy muffled. It didn't help anything when Trouble began howling.

Tossing herself onto her back with a something that resembled a growl, she stared up at the ceiling before she flung her pillow at the wall. She had no proof but she had a good idea as to _who_ was causing the noise. Pulling her favorite blue hoodie over her head, Meg grumbled about how she might be needing some of those sleep meds that her mom took that knocked the older woman out.

Stalking down the steps, Meg grabbed her keys the small table besides the door and deftly punched the button that would shut the alarm off. With a glare that would freeze any liquid, she stared out at the empty yard. Nothing but the normal cars. Going back inside she stormed back into her room and flung herself into the bed. It took only a few minutes for her to calm herself back down. Cracking one of her eyes open, she saw that no giant visitor was watching her through her window.

Slowly, Meg extracted herself from her bed. She kept herself hunched so that no one would be able to see her through the windows as she snuck down to the kitchen. Just as she had hoped, the rotting apples were still in a bag in the trash. She had forgotten to throw them out before she went to bed but she would be taking care of that. Grabbing as many as she could hold Meg snuck into the living room. She climbed on to the couch and peeked through the blinds that covered the window that the couch was underneath. A half hour of head-nodding, sleep-deprived spying later, a dark shadow slipped past the window.

Meg waited a moment to be sure that she had caught the culprit before ducking down off the couch. She dashed over to the door and cracked it open. Just as she looked through, Sideswipe's form was hovering above her car. The mech was leaning down to shake the small SUV, the action he always took to activate the annoying car alarm, when suddenly the alarm went off by itself. Sideswipe froze in confusion and slight shock when the house's door flung open. With all her might, Meg ran forward and began pelting Sideswipe with the rotten fruit.

"You fucking bastard! You are so immature! I was just want to get some goddamn sleep and you have to go fuck it up! Why? So you can be entertained? I will _not_ be a source of entertainment for you conceited twins!" At this point, Meg had ran out of tangible ammo but the intangible weaponry was still spitting out fire. "My brother just _died_ and here you are, acting like a fucking toddler! And don't pretend you don't know what I'm saying! Even if you didn't know, you know exactly why I'm so fucking pissed!"

Through out the whole tirade, Sideswipe was frozen with his hands up in an 'I surrender' gesture. He was also thinking if it was possible that Ratchet had a human daughter. He shot a desperate look to Jazz who was standing on the sidelines, arms crossed and with that stupid cocky, self assured grin of his.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?!" Meg demanded, snapping Sideswipe's attention back to her.

"Jazz made me do it." At those words, Jazz's grin immediately dropped. The lieutenant took several hasty steps back with his claws raised up. Everyone knew that Sideswipe wasn't lying, especially Meg as she judged Jazz's reaction.

Her eyes finding an apple that had fallen to the ground, she scooped it up and, with all her might, flung it at Jazz. With a _splat_ it landed square in his face. With a grimace he swiped it away.

"Feel better?" he asked, the disgusted grimace still on his face as he looked at the smeared apple on his claw.

Meg visible deflated. So much so, that she let her knees buckle and she sat in the dirt. She looked at both Autobots and her cheeks flared red as she realized what she had just done. With a soft _thud_ she fell on to her back, her hands covering her face. Having flicked all of the apple guts off of him, Jazz walked over to Meg and sat down beside her. Leaning back on one elbow, he gently took one claw and forced one of her hands away from her face. Sideswipe watched it all quietly from where he stood, not even bothering to get the apple gunk off of him.

"I can't believe I just did that," Meg practically whimpered.

"I can," Jazz said with a shrug. "Sideswipe gets most people to react that way when he's round 'em for too long. Just shows ya that you're normal and Sideswipe….well, its shows ya that Sideswipe's not." The mentioned mech scowled at Jazz but no one was paying any attention to him.

"Tell you what? Let's get some a tha' tension out." With that, Jazz's claw morphed into his machine gun and his visor lowered while a wicked grin defined his visible features. "Let's have us some target practice." The menacing machine gun came level to Sideswipe.

Meg never knew that something so large could run so fast. And it was even more amazing when the sound of metal hitting metal rang into the early morning air. Both Meg and Jazz stood up as they saw Sideswipe literally trip on air and come to cringe worthy face plant into the dirt. Even though it was still rather dark out, Meg still noticed something briefly shimmer where Sideswipe had fallen.

Immediately, the Autobots, including Sunstreaker who had decided to make an appearance after watching his brother's escapades from a safe distance, had their working weapons drawn. Jazz had situated himself between Meg and whatever/whoever had made Sideswipe trip. The lieutenant spoke out in his native language, the tones so low that Meg was unsure if she even heard all of them.

As Sideswipe scrambled to his feet while having his missiles and gun trained on the mystery, there was more shimmering. It reminded Meg of the waves of heat that radiated off of the pavement during a hot day. Except these waves had a vague shape. And then, before her eyes, the car from the most recent James Bond movie appeared.

The Aston Martin DBS stayed perfectly still before breaking apart and rising upward. Slowly, all of the mechs lowered their weapons.

"Autobot Chief of Spies. Designation: Mirage."

Meg stared in awe at the white mech. Even though he wasn't as tall as the twins and was taller than Jazz, of course Meg was learning that there were a lot of mechs taller than Jazz, she couldn't help but notice that this new Autobot, Mirage, held himself up with dignity. When he looked at her with those glowing blue optics, he gave her a small smile and a nod. Immediately she envisioned a prince who was weighted down with too many burdens for the sake of his kingdom and yet still had the consideration for those his kingdom protected.

While Meg was still trying to get used to the newest arrival, two more headlights made in appearance on the road that led to the ranch house. The two cars slowed down and while the green Jeep J8 came to a halt, the Sheriff Dodge Charger transformed without the mech losing his momentum. He walked right over to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker and didn't stop until he was standing right in front of their towering forms.

**"I have a message from Ratchet,"** the black and white mech informed. Before the twins could duck, Prowl hit them both upside their heads.

* * *


	11. Chapter 10

**_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews and reads!! I'm sorry that this took so long to update, I had a major case of writer's block. I had to fight with this chapter like no other and I'm not exactly satisfied with it. So just a warning, not my best work. Haha, and I'm not saying that to get more reviews, I'm just being honest. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!_**

* * *

The sound of metal horse shoes _clip-clopped_ on to the concrete of the wash rack. Valor tried to walk right across the large concrete slab but Meg held tightly on to the lead rope to keep him from going any further. The big dappled horse heaved a world weary sigh. Meg couldn't resist a snort as she tied Valor's lead rope to a ring screwed into the metal rail set vertically into one end the concrete slab.

With Valor secured to the post, Meg briskly walked into barn. Scooping up the bucket full of shampoos and sponges she made her way back to the horse. Valor's head went up higher and his ears pricked when he heard the familiar sound of Meg's flip flops slapping her heels. It was undeniably stupid to wash a horse with flip flops but frankly her teenage mentality just didn't care. Besides, she was wearing her bikini so she might as well go all out in her swim garb.

The explosive spray from the hose caught Valor's attention. He snorted and tried to sidestep away from the water but Meg was very familiar with his games. Putting her thumb over the nozzle to make the water fan out, she directed the hoses' aim towards Valor's black legs. The Andalusian jigged for a moment, his shoes clashing against the concrete, but the rope tying him to the post was always slack. Once he realized that the annoying girl wasn't going to go away with the hose, he calmed down. And enjoyed himself.

With an OCD-like dedication, Meg made sure that every fiber of hair was waterlogged. By the time she was done with his body, the horse was glistening and she could literally see her reflection in the wet coat. Moving on to the next step in the long process, Meg went to the hose and turned the pressure down a bit. From there she went to the horse's head and took a firm grasp of his halter. Valor tried to raise his head in protest but it was rather half-hearted. With his ears back, eyes closed, and giant nostrils wrinkled up to keep water from getting into his nose, Meg drenched him. After she was done, Valor raised his head high and flipped his upper lip up in a comical horsie smile.

Directing the hose over so that the empty bucket would be filled, Meg squirted the shampoo into it as the foamy concoction rose like the evil toxic slime from a bad sci-fi flick. With a sudsy, waterlogged sponge in hand, Meg set to work scrubbing the bezeejers out of the horse. Valor leaned into her and stretched his neck and head up while wiggling his lip in pleasure of the massage.

When Meg was working on shampooing and conditioning his thick tail, Valor gave a shake and the suds went flying everywhere. Meg laughed and didn't bother trying to avoid the water and suds; the whole point of wearing a bikini was so that she wouldn't have to care about getting wet…and the added benefit of getting a nice tan didn't hurt.

It took a full hour to get Valor completely hosed, soaped, rinsed, dried, brushed, combed, gelled, hoof-oiled, and completely dirt free. When she was done, Meg sighed and patted the silky dappled shoulder. She'd be damned if this horse got dirty after all of her hard work. If she could, she would wrap him in bubble wrap and wasn't at all completely opposed to the idea.

Right when she untied Valor, Meg got the undeniable feeling that she was being watched. She could sense him and she knew it was one of the twins because Jazz was off talking with the newcomers. Turning around, she found Sunstreaker standing there staring at her. Immediately, Meg became uncomfortable with the blatant attention completely focused on her. She had no idea why Sunstreaker was staring at her like that and was even more worried when his blue optics flicked from her, to Valor, to the bucket (he spent a lot of time staring at the bucket she had used to give the horse his bath) and then back to her.

Meg _really _didn't like the look that Sunstreaker was giving her.

"Jazz?!" she called out while keeping her eyes on the giant mech. There was no response and Meg hurriedly led Valor into the barn to his stall. Grabbing her favorite forest green tank top and jean shorts from the tack room, she slipped into the more conservative clothing and started to head back out to clean up. She was praying that Sunstreaker was gone or at least hoping that Sideswipe hadn't joined him. She knew the odds were against her in both wishes. When the teenager came out of the barn, she froze when she saw that the bucket and sponge had magically moved to sit in the middle of the barn's doorway. The thick metal legs of Sunstreaker were clearly visible.

Meg hesitantly approached but when Sunstreaker suddenly dropped to one of his knees, she darted back into the stable. Sure, she knew that the Autobots would never purposefully harm her but there was something about the way that Sunstreaker was looking at her that was seriously freaking her out.

As she watched with wide eyes, the enormous mech used one of his fingers to deftly shove the bucket towards her. Meg's eyebrows shot up and a skeptical look crossed her face. Sunstreaker leant down so he could better see the cornered girl. A contemplative expression formed along with the normal snide air he usually held.

"Clean," he grumbled with a voice that reminded Meg of when her brother's friends would call on the phone.

"Umm, I…uh, can't?" Meg stuttered while shaking her head. Sunstreaker frowned and the shutters over his optics narrowed. The girl barely restrained the urge to gulp.

* * *

It was typical of Prowl to be surrounded by beauty and not to give it a second thought. At the moment the Second-in-Command was conferencing with Optimus and exchanging data. Why Jazz and the others, excluding the twins for obvious reasons, had to be there was beyond the lieutenant. As they stood beside a cliff looking out over the gorgeous carvings that a tiny creek had made in the golden grassed canyons, Hound was the complete opposite of the rather narrow-minded Prowl. Jazz was sure that the scout was about to overload by just looking at the scenery. If he wasn't analyzing the ancient, by human standards, oaks then the mech was off trying to coax a rabbit from its den beneath the prickly pear cactus. Whether Mirage was impressed was hard to tell since the spy kept his range of emotions to himself unless he felt a need to voice them.

There was no doubt that it was good to be with his comrades again. Prowl had been an old friend of his that he knew after a stint of their units working together to have one of Jazz's Special Operations soldiers posing as an intelligence interpreter for the Decepticons. Prowl had been heavily involved in the operation since the plan had become so complex. When things went south and it was discovered that the undercover Autobot was in over his head and at the risk of being burned, Jazz himself was sent in to take his soldier's place. During the vorn of time as a Decepticon, Prowl was the only Autobot that Jazz had contact with. From that experience, a deep camaraderie had been formed.

Their interactions had been limited for a long while afterwards due to the lack of need for their combined units. It wasn't until Jazz and his unit had risen up the ranks and had been asked to join Prime on the _Ark_ that the two old friends had been reunited. Prowl had long been Optimus' Second-in-Command by that point and Jazz was still convinced that Prowl had a heavy influence on the decision to bring Jazz's unit on board. Of course Prowl had yet to admit this and probably never would.

Then there was Mirage. Out of all of the mechs that served under Jazz, Mirage was definitely one of the best. There was rarely any assignment that the mech wouldn't accomplish, even against incredible odds. Besides Jazz himself, Mirage was among the few mechs that frequented the Decepticon ranks the most. Even though his loyalty was often questioned, Jazz knew from conversations that they'd had that, while Mirage was fighting a war that was not his as were the rest of them, that he kept his loyalties strictly with the Autobots. _'I would rather let Megatron himself rip out my spark while I'm still on-line than become a Decepticon,'_ had been the spy's exact words if Jazz's memory banks hadn't failed him. Couldn't be more loyal than that aside from having the Autobot creed inscribed all over his armor.

Lastly was Hound. Jazz hated to admit that he didn't know much about the mech and had only met him briefly. He was a scout like Bumblebee and Jazz recalled Bee mentioning that the two had been put together on many assignments. The stories that Bee shared about those adventures were interesting to say the least. If Optimus had thought having to rescue Bee from the caves on the planet they had come across on their way to Earth was bad, the commander would have short-circuited with what Bee and Hound's superior must have suffered. It was probably why the pair had been split up and put into different units. There was no doubting that Bumblebee would be overjoyed to be reunited with Hound.

Until that little reunion, however, things needed to be taken care of. For one thing, Jazz was relieved that Prowl had finally arrived and he could hand over the reins, as the humans would say, to the Second-in-Command. And Jazz could go back to…well, being Jazz.

It took a few moments for him to realize that Prowl was trying to get his attention. At first Jazz wouldn't give in to his friend. Jazz's attention was rather fleeting and it had to be worked for. Finally, when Prowl was short of pulling out his rifle, Jazz looked over at him.

_"What's up?" _Prowl froze and Jazz could swear he could hear the circuitry misfiring in his friend's processors. The fact that Jazz had asked the question in Cybertronian didn't help anything. Rather than take the time to figure out what the lieutenant meant, Prowl relayed the message that Hound had sent him. (Hound and Mirage must have wondered back to the ranch while Prowl was talking and Jazz was contemplating) At hearing the news, Jazz hit his clawed hand against his forehead before running back to the ranch house. Prowl lingered a moment, trying to decide if Jazz had become even more illogical than the last time he had seen him and if that was even possible.

* * *

Meg stared eyes to optic with Sunstreaker before she bolted in the opposite direction. Cougar startled when she barged into his stall and watched with surprised shock as she jumped through the window. Having lost her flip flops in the shavings of Cougar's stall, Meg tried her best to run as fast as she could. It didn't help that one giant stride of Sunstreaker's was equivalent to her twenty strides.

Unlike Jazz, Meg wasn't completely sure if Sunstreaker would squish her or not. He wasn't exactly the kind that radiated reassurance. She trusted Sideswipe more and that was even after Jazz filled her in on Sideswipe's shady past. As Meg ran from the barn and Sunstreaker had spotted her, the girl realized her major mistake by giving up her only sanctuary and putting herself out into the open. Meg stopped so fast that she nearly fell down as she doubled back to the safety of the barn. She would be trapped but at least she wouldn't be haunted by Sunstreaker and the sponge and bucket. A moment after she turned, she found herself staring at a very, very large leg. Looking up she saw Sunstreaker's menacing smile.

"Oh snap." She was spending way too much time with Jazz.

That was when she saw him. Why she happened to look away from Sunstreaker, she didn't know but all that she did know was that she had far better luck with the Jolly Green Giant than with the sociopathic narcissist. As fast as she could, Meg ran to Hound. She had only met him once but she was willing to risk it. She only prayed that she wouldn't be stepped on. After all, her luck wasn't exactly proving to be working out for her very well.

Hound and Mirage was more than surprised when the teenager came running up to them with Sunstreaker making swipes to catch her. Hound, having proved to be the more friendly of the two, was Meg's choice in sanctuary while Mirage looked on with a slightly opposing mixture of curiosity and indifference. The spy naturally wanted to know what was going on but he had learned that with the twins, sometimes it was just best to look the other way.

Meg hid behind Hound, peaking out from the strange jumble that made up his legs. Sunstreaker stopped short of plowing into the scout but just barely. He sneered at the dust covered mech and cautiously took several steps back.

_"What are you doing?"_ Hound incredulously asked in their native language.

_"She was cleaning the four-legged creature and I am tired of being at this slagging ranch in the middle of the slagging country with all of this slagging dust and looking…well, looking like you."_

_"Just ignore him, Hound," _Mirage commented from the side.

_"If I wanted to be ignored than I wouldn't have said anything."_ Mirage visibly straightened and squared off towards Sunstreaker who returned the movement. Hound remained perfectly still since he had Meg so close to him.

"_That's always been the problem with you, Sunstreaker. You thrive on attention and you don't care how low you have to go to get it. Making some organic clean you after all of the hospitality she has shown you." _Sunstreaker stepped up so that he was almost right up against Mirage. There was a height difference with Sunstreaker being taller but it didn't intimidate Mirage at all.

"_You know what my problem with is _you_,_ _Mirage? You can't get over the past. Even though you're here on Earth, those memory banks of yours are on overdrive thinking about your spoiled life back on those estates on Cybertron. And guess what? Those estates are slagged and burning as we speak right now." _

A nasty expression crossed over Mirage's face. A deep growl resonated from his vocal capacitors. His blade was slowly descending from atop his wrist, visibly showing the battle of his patience and what side was winning. Sunstreaker looked smug at the reaction he was getting. Unknown to Hound and Meg, the two mechs had clashed before because of their greatly differing backgrounds. After all of the time that had passed, it had shown that Mirage's patience had finally waned too thin to keep himself in check when it came to the tempered twin.

"_Looks like you won't be able to escape us loathsome commoners," _Sunstreaker sneered.

"_I chose to fight for the Autobots because I believe everyone deserves freedom no matter their social class. I am proud to serve with my comrades and I would die for them. I have come close to it happening several times." _Hound was about to speak on Mirage's behalf when the spy added, _"You should have stayed in those gladiator arenas where you belong." _

Sunstreaker's temper finally snapped and he lounged toward Mirage. The spy, having long expected the attack, took a step back and grabbed Sunstreaker's wrist. Using Sunstreaker's momentum against himself, Mirage threw the protoform behind him. Sunstreaker, having realized what was happening as soon as Mirage grabbed on to his wrist, grabbed Mirage's upper arm so that both mechs went flying.

Hound instantly went to pick Meg up but she was so frightened that she instinctively dodged away from his hands.

"Stop it!" she screamed as loud as she could. Both mechs instantly froze; Mirage surprised by how loud and passionate the tiny creature was while Sunstreaker was confused by the guilt he felt at seeing the fear in her eyes. "Why are you fighting each other?! You're on the _same side!_" Meg demanded as she tried her best to stop herself from shaking.

When Sunstreaker slightly moved his arm as it to reach out for her, Meg instinctively took a step back. The moment that she bumped into Hound's let, she jumped and skittered away. She looked at all of the mechs with a new wariness that she had never shown towards them until she saw them fight each other.

Jazz and Prowl came on to the scene just in time to see Meg run into the house. Sideswipe, seemingly appearing from thin air, came in to step in between them. Prowl sent him an accusatory glance. Sideswipe raised up his hands and took a step back to show his innocence.

_"Hey, I just arrived when you did. I was no where near here and whatever happened…"_

While Jazz trotted over to Hound to see what exactly happened, Prowl stood where he was, staring Sideswipe down…or rather up since the melee warrior was at least a head taller than the second in command.

_"I was no where near here,"_ Sideswipe repeated.

_"That still raises the question of where you were," _Prowl calmly, and accusingly, pointed out. There was a moment's pause.

_"Sunny!" _Sideswipe called out as he started jauntily walking away from Prowl. _"What the slag are you doing on the ground? And under Mirage? I didn't know you were _that_ lonely."_

* * *

Sometimes people did strange things when they were under stress. It was different for each person but for Meg, it was going out on the roof. The window that looked out from her brother's old room was right over the back porch's roof. It had been bizarre for the girl to go through Andrew's room but it was rather barren after he had gone off to college. And besides, whenever the siblings had been stressed out about something, they would join each other on the porch covering, staring up at the night sky.

Of course it was an incredibly different matter for Meg to look up at the stars and cosmos. Instead of wondering if something was out there, she instead wondered _where_. As she sat up there, hugging her knees to her chest, Meg tried to force all of the thoughts from her head. Helping her in this task, was the soothing voice of Alicia Keys. With each lyric, Meg could immediately identify with exactly what the woman was singing about. At times it was downright eerie. But then again, it was also strangely comforting since she knew that someone else in the world had experienced what she was going through. Of course the odds were against her that other people witnessed a throw down between two robot alien warriors who were supposedly in the same faction, but then again Meg didn't feel right assuming what was possible anymore.

Having just washed her hair, Meg's almost black hair was spiraling and glistening in the soft moonlight. Her hood was up, partially to keep her warmer with her wet hair but mainly for that feeling of being able to hide. The sleeves of her grey zip-up hoodie were pulled over her hands, hiding how she was holding her iPod. Looking through her wet curls, Meg saw a dark silver form roll into view. Since she had spent the rest of her day inside the house after the fight between Sunstreaker and Mirage, it was the first time she had seen any of the mechs for several hours. Jazz flashed his headlights several times to get Meg's attention.

"She took her sleep meds," the girl called with no inhibition of her voice's volume. "There's no way she'll wake up for another seven hours."

Having the all clear, Jazz transformed and walked over to Meg. The pair stared at each other for a long while, Meg's lips pressed against her knee so that only her face above her nose was visible. At least the part of her face that wasn't hidden by the veil of curls cascading over her right eye. Even from behind her hair, Meg's green eyes were locked in the cerulean orbs glowing brightly in front of her.

With as much tender care as a mech could possibly have, Jazz reached out with his finger and pulled the ear buds from Meg's ears one at a time. The girl remained perfectly still as the mass of metal and wires brushed against her. After he was assured that she could hear him, not that she would purposefully ignore him, Jazz delicately lifted up the curls that covered Meg's face and comically cocked his head to the right so that he could see her better.

"What's wrong?" Meg took a deep breath at the reassuring baritones of Jazz's voice. Meg's eyes moved from Jazz's bright optics to the rest of his face. Her attention came to what served as his chin.

"You look like you have a goatee," Meg muttered. She didn't know why she just noticed it, but something about Jazz's facial structure made him look like he had a goatee. It was a bizarre observation so it was just blamed on the stress and frayed nerves.

"So my facial structures' resemblance to human facial hair is what has you on the roof?" Meg looked away but Jazz placed his finger beneath Meg's chin to force her to look at him.

"I don't like fighting," the girl admitted quietly.

"Not everyone gets along."

"I still don't like it. Fighting is what takes my dad away from me. Fighting is what might take you away."

"Who says I'm going anywhere?" At that Meg raised an eyebrow.

"Are you really going to stay out here in the middle of nowhere until I move on? What about the other Autobots?" There was no denying what Meg had said. And it didn't help when she continued. "And you aren't for the country Jazz. You have 'city boy' written all over you."

Jazz frowned, not liking where this was taking them albeit how truthful it was. He glanced away and then looked back. Placing his claws on either side of her and without any pressure as to not cause the roof to collapse, Jazz brought himself closer to the girl.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"They need you, Jazz," Meg whispered. The girl had hit home and she knew it by his silence. "Look at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. They wouldn't have made it without you. I know jackshit about your guys' anatomy but I could tell that they were messed up when they first came. And I don't know what you did but they're okay now…at least physically."

"We both have always known I would have to go back eventually…but I can't get rid of the feeling that you're pushing me away…why?" Jazz reached forward and gently pulled the hood off of Meg's head. Taking one of her hands, she tried wiping her tears off with her sleeve but more just silently trickled down.

"Aw, come on girl," Jazz muttered. "I know that leakin' ain't right even if you're an organic and not a mech."

"I don't want you to go," Meg finally admitted.

"You aren't makin' much sense, you know that, right?" The girl shook her head and looked away, once again trying to wipe her tears away. Slowly her legs moved down so that she wasn't hugging her knees to her chest anymore but instead had her arms lightly wrapped around her bent legs.

"After losing Andrew…and in a sense my mom and dad…I don't want to lose you too. But I know that you're going to have to leave some day…so I guess I figured it would be easier if it was on my terms…I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I know where you're comin' from. But if I go anywhere, I can guarantee that you'll be comin' with me or that I'll be back for you, got it?" Meg nodded her head in response and the corners of lips curved up to give the barest of hints towards a smile.

Seeing that she was reassured, Jazz leaned back slightly and his attention was caught by a slight bump beneath the grey fiber of the hoodie's sleeve. Gently, he touched what he knew was the bracelet that Andrew had given Meg. Recognizing as to what he was hinting at, Meg pulled up her sleeve just enough for the black and wood beaded bracelet to be seen.

"Strength and happiness," Jazz reminded her. "That's why he gave you that bracelet. Make him…and me…proud, okay?" The girl smiled and nodded and Jazz returned the motions. "That's my girl."

* * *

If there was one word to describe Starscream, it would be 'hate'. There were other words, like vengeful, conceited, malicious, malevolent, etc. but when the whole of Starscream was examined, it was obvious that the underlying emotion to everything about him was hate. For instance, he hated Autobots, he hated Megatron, he hated Decepticons…actually he just about hated everyone and everything. Starscream hated how he was forced to this planet to look for his less than worthy leader and the Allspark that leader lost while having to deal with loyalists like Blackout who would have found a way to blow their own head off if _Lord Megatron_ told them to.

Going from the segue of the hate of the mission, he hated most of all where the mission led him: Earth. He hated how he left Earth and then _came back_. Of his own accord no less. He hated who he came back with. He hated how Thundercracker didn't come with him because of so called 'loyalty' but how Thundercracker's thought process most likely led him to the conclusion that it was better than floating around in space and he would be able to shoot some Autobots and organics. Skywarp's thought processes….well, there weren't really any thought processes with that one. Where his fellow Seekers went, Skywarp followed. It was like having a slagging symbiote. In fact, it would have been better if Skywarp had been a symbiote because than he would actually obey orders. Skywarp's tendency to shoot whether or not he had been ordered to was not exactly helpful albeit it was rather entertaining.

So back to the initial point. Ice cream is to milk as Starscream is to hate. It was a lovely lesson that many foes would most likely need to know. Then again, it didn't take much time around Starscream or to hear many stories about him to realize that a happy, contented mech he was not.

As Starscream flew high up in the mesophere, contemplating all that he loathed while being flanked by mechs who would most likely shoot him at a moment's notice, the Seeker Commander noticed something very interesting on his sensors. Tiny and primitive, there was no doubt that it was something that the organics had created. Pulling his beige nose upward, the seeker began climbing further up. Before he came into range of the satellites that had visual recording devices, Starscream created a quick loop that would appear seamlessly until the Seeker trio had passed.

Finally, Starscream arrived at the satellite that held the most potential. It was the one that held the newest technology and was trained on the land mass that Starscream knew that the Autobots were residing on. Ordering Thundercraker and Skywarp away, even for the primitive technology it would be more than easy for their massive bulks to be noticed, Starscream transformed. Floating behind the cylindrical satellite and out of the camera's view, tiny wires emerged from Starscream's claw-like fingers. When he grabbed on to the satellite, the wires probed inside. It would have been the perfect opportunity to implant a virus but Starscream didn't want to draw the Autobots out too soon.

Before there was no telling on whether or not more Autobots had arrived. Starscream knew that the annoying cretin of a lieutenant had been off-lined by Megatron (finally, Megatron had managed to do something right for once) but that still left four Autobots and three Decepticons. Well, when it came to firepower and threat, the Prime counted as two mechs rather than one and the same went for the Weapons Specialist. While there was the possibility of Barricade, Scorponok, and Frenzy still being on-line, that combination was more like one and a half since Scorponok would be useless until reprogrammed to another host and Frenzy… Starscream had at one point thought that the minute symbiote was utterly useless but the hacker had proven himself so Frenzy was in deed a useful pawn to be played.

But even after all of those hypothetical mathematic processes, Starscream was still extremely uncomfortable with the thought of another battle with the Autobots, the Prime's _Elite_ Autobots, with so many unknowns. Not to mention that Prime had found allies with humans, humans that had managed to take down the _mighty_ Megatron and his most loyal servant Blackout and possibly Scorponok. While Starscream would rather surrender himself to the Autobots, he did recognize the threat of the tiny organics.

Of course those tiny organics and their primitive technology is what allowed Starscream to pinpoint where exactly the Autobots were. As the Decepticon second in command, Starscream knew how much advantage there was to not trusting one's people but the US government had shown the downfall of spying on their own. It also appeared that the government was trying to keep close tabs on the Autobots although the task was being met with an amount of difficulty. It showed the amount of trust that the North American government held for their guests. If the government was that distrustful, Starscream could only imagine how the majority of the population would feel.

Starscream's next discovery actually made him hate certain things less. There was a nice little virus planted within the recesses of the satellite's programming. Apparently certain Cybertronians hadn't wanted to be seen by the satellite and had effectively made their signatures invisible unless the satellites had a visual sighting of those giving off the signatures. It didn't take long for Starscream to manipulate the little virus until he made sure that _all_ Decepticons would be undetectable. It was simple really; when the Decepticon signature was detected by the virus, the virus would create a copy of the visuals to make a loop of the video feed until the signature was out of range. And one thing Starscream knew for sure was that the US government would _love_ to know that the _Autobots_ were the ones who had initially planted the virus.

Having retrieved the information that was needed, Starscream disconnected himself from the satellite and flew back to his fellow Seekers. Starscream had noted only two new arrivals and he knew that his comrades would be extremely interested in knowing who the arrivals were.

_"Thundercracker,"_ Starscream called out, _"You're favorite Autobot front-liners are here." _There was a very loud, very obvious growl that erupted from Thundercracker that could be heard even over the roar of his engines.

_"Where are they?"_ the Seeker asked as he accelerated faster, impatient to serve out the revenge he'd been longing to give for so long.

_"On the western coast of the United States of America…and they're in their protoforms."_

Thundercracker threw on his afterburners as he banked left, taking off for his targets. Starscream was quick to follow and made sure to position himself so that once again he was ahead. There was a loud vacuum sound as Skywarp appeared to take his place on Starscream's right flank. The Autobots had no idea what was coming for them.


	12. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note**__**: Sorry for the wait! Thanks to some 'poking' I finally got moving on this chapter. I battled the mother of all brick walls and that is all thanks to some random inspiration. I had been doing recovery at this party store I work at when I found a ukulele. I can't describe how entertaining that thing was during the desolate time known as closing. So thank you for the pokes, reviews, and reads!!**_

* * *

"The man is like a cockroach..." Mikaela vehemently muttered under her breath. Sam nodded his head in agreement, liking especially the idea that Simmons was the size of a cockroach where the Autobots were concerned. That would make it easy for them to step on him. It wouldn't be like there would be any loss with that 'accident'. But no, the giant alien robotic soldiers just _had _to have morals.

Of course this strong disdain for Simmons had led to Sam devising a plan with the help of Lennox and Epps. It was a childish plan but their annoyance with Simmons outweighed their pride. Mikaela didn't know yet, not because Sam didn't trust her (the trust factor he felt with her was tied with Bumblebee and Optimus) but rather because the smaller it was kept the more effective it would be. That, and Sam couldn't wait to see Mikaela's face when the whole thing was pulled off.

The two teenagers sat in the base's rec room with Sam on the couch and Mikaela sitting on the ground between Sam's legs. She had her chin tucked to her chest as he gave her a neck rub and this way she kept from looking over at Simmons talking very animatedly on his Blackberry. They had thought that he was gone with his month long hiatus after his stay with Jazz but apparently the cockroach just needed to regroup. Everyone was all but ready to ask Ironhide to drop a nuc on the agent to see if it was true that cockroaches would be able to survive a nuclear attack. If it failed and everyone else but him died, well at least they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.

With Mikaela distracted, Sam's eyes roved around the rec room. Simmons was there, as planned, but there was no telling how long the over caffeinated man would stay in one place. Next Sam glanced over at Miles' massive behemoth of a dog that Sam agreed to petsit while Miles was doing…something. At least that's the story that Simmons knew. Miles was actually at home playing Xbox live and eating Funions to his heart's content. Simmons was adamant against the dog being on base but Optimus stepped in (literally) and told Simmons that the base was under the Autobots' jurisdiction and they, excluding Ironhide, were perfectly fine with allowing the dog on base. That was the first time that Sam saw a grown man throw a tantrum that rivaled a toddler's.

The massive dog was at the moment lying on the concrete floor, drool dripping from his mouth as he chewed on his enormous bone that must have been a t-rex's thigh. He was lying sprawled out next to the couch as happy as could be.

Lost in his thoughts, Sam didn't hear the first time that Mikaela asked her question. By the time he pulled himself back into reality, his girlfriend was looking over her shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow and yet still managed to look concerned.

"Do you hear that?" she repeated. Sam concentrated for a moment and heard the strangled sounds of some string instrument being thoroughly abused coming from the hallway. A small smile formed on Sam's face and there was an undeniable twinkle in his eye. The smile grew as the sounds came closer.

Even Simmons' attention was grabbed and he shot an evil glare at the empty doorway. Despite the annoyance he refused to stop talking on the phone. Sam and Mikaela exchanged glances and upon seeing Sam's smirk Mikaela smiled. They were both on their feet by the time that Lennox and Epps stepped into the room. Both soldiers were wearing their civilian clothes and were obviously off duty. Lennox was walking absentmindedly while playing some nonsensical tune on the ukulele he held close to his heart. His eyes were closed and a blissful smile was plastered on his face.

Both soldiers stopped walking as Lennox finished what was supposed to be a relaxing little tune. There was a dramatic pause before the captain started thumbing the four strings like he was a rock guitarist. As soon as Lennox started the new, faster 'tune' Epps closed his eyes and, with facial and hand dramatics inspired by boy bands everywhere, began singing in the highest, and then lowest, voice he could muster.

"Play that funky music white boy. Play that funky music r_iiiight!!_ Play that funky music white boy. We're gonna be gettin' down and funky tonight." Along with the overtop dramatics Epps soon started getting hyphy as Lennox continued his mad ukulele skills. Neither of them remembered if those were the right lyrics but it didn't really matter.

By then Simmons had given up on continuing his, most likely, one-sided conversation over the phone. He was opening his mouth to make some snide retort but instead of the smart-assery coming out, a great big howl exploded in the rec room. Everyone, except for the boy banders, stared over at the beastly dog whose head was straight up as he sat back on his haunches. There was no ignoring the horrible combination of the dog howling, Lennox playing, and Epps singing.

"Enough!" Simmons yelled as loud as he could. Lennox only continued rocking out.

"Get off our backs Simmons. This is our off t_iiime_," Epps sang. "You can just go chew on some lemons or maybe get down 'n' funky with a lime." Suddenly Lennox stopped playing and he looked over at his comrade with an incredulous look.

"That was the worst rhyming I've ever heard." Immediately Epps took on a defensive stance.

"What, like you can do any better man? You do what you do best and I'll do what I do best." Lennox took on a thoughtful expression and then shrugged his shoulders. Right away they started back into their jams with Miles' dog joining in as soon as the first string was plucked.

Completely fed up with the abuse he was continually going through, Simmons marched over to Lennox and ripped the ukulele out of his grasp. Lennox was so caught off guard that one of the strings got caught on his thumb and snapped. Everyone watched as Simmons took the ukulele by the neck and started wailing it against the concrete floor. The dog's howling only seemed to be adding to Simmon's rage which made the situation even funnier. The witnesses to the ukulele slaughter stood back, trying to hide their amused triumph at finally getting Simmons to snap. Who knew it only took a ukulele, two horrible musicians, and a dog?

When the ukulele massacre was over, Simmons thrust the demolished instrument into Lennox's hands, with only two strings holding the shards of wood together.

"That was cold," Lennox muttered. Sam and Mikaela were wondering how the soldiers were able to keep a straight face because the teenagers were having the hardest time from breaking down right then and there.

"Will you shut that dog up?" Simmons snarled as his narrowed eyes darted over to the still howling beast. If it wasn't for Simmons' hand trailing down to the gun holstered on his hip, Sam would have let the dog continue. Of course it took having Sam to physically clamp the dog's muzzle shut to get him to be quiet.

The rec room was oddly quiet as the agent started cooling down. It was in this quiet that a soft wail came from further down hall where the security room was. Before long that wail developed into the telltale sounds of a siren. Sam fell to the ground as the dog violently squirmed out of the teenager's grasp. With all the strength that his beastly lungs could muster, the dog began howling as loud as he could in accompaniment to the sirens.

Simmons was livid. So livid in fact, that he was turning bright red and three veins were visible on his face.

"That's it!!" he roared. "I can't deal with this anymore! I'm putting in my papers to be reassigned!"

"Oh come on Semens, we're just teasing you," Epps said with a convincing amount of empathy. Simmons looked as if he was about to kill the Air Force ranger before he turned around on his heel and stormed out of the rec room.

If they had wanted to tempt fate, everyone would have broken out in cheers at Simmons' resignation. Sam turned around and gave a thumbs up to Ratchet through the surveillance camera. Inside the security room, Ratchet and Bumblebee showed their expertise at human culture by giving each other high fives.

* * *

Meg pushed the shopping cart across the black concrete towards her car. Once she had enough momentum, she jumped on and coasted the rest of the way. Having arrived at her more orthodox mode of transportation, she let herself slip off of the cart and pulled it to a stop. She was just starting to put in the bags into the backseat of her SUV when the undeniable sound of a truck worthy of a scrapheap was heard. Randy and Grady were soon by her side. As a way of greeting, Meg flipped Grady's baseball cap from off his head.

"What are you up to?" Randy asked as Grady fixed his hat.

"Duck hunting," Meg replied without missing a beat. Grady smirked as he sympathetically patted Randy on the back.

"Are you going home after this?" Meg nodded in the affirmative at Grady's question. She was trying her best to avoid her friends because she was somewhat nervous at the idea of leaving the mechs back home all alone. If, God forbid, her mother was to show up then all hell would break loose. It only made Meg more nervous that her cell phone was back home charging so there was no way to reach her.

"You aren't any fun anymore. You're always home, moping around." Randy grumbled as Meg and Grady shot him a look.

"Sorry if my mourning my brother's death isn't entertaining enough for you," Meg spat as she shoved a bag full of pastas into the car a little bit harder than she should have.

"No, it's before that. Right around when we found you after you fell from Valor near the canyons. You're always at home," Randy said softly, trying his best to rectify himself.

"It's not like there's much to do around here anyway. It's either school and work or getting high and drunk." At the word 'drunk' Meg gave a pointed look at her friends. Randy was just about to reply when Grady elbowed him and nodded off to the road.

"Hey Meg, isn't that your car?" The girl tossed in her last bag without a second thought and dashed to the rear of the SUV so that she could better see the road. Sure enough, there was the dark silver Pontiac Solstice making the turn into the grocery store's parking lot. Jazz headed straight for them and came to a stop with his bumper facing the passenger side of the SUV. The hologram driver looked over at Meg with eerily blank eyes.

"We have to go," Jazz said through the hologram in a less…big…voice. Meg narrowed her eyes in confusion, and motioned to her car with her mouth open to speak. "Now." There was no arguing. This was a different side of Jazz that Meg had never seen before.

Just as she was about to walk over to Jazz's passenger door, Grady grabbed her arm to keep her from going. He glared over at the hologram and put himself between Jazz and Meg. Randy came up beside him so that Meg was completely blocked off. There was a slam of the door and soon Meg saw the hologram towering over the heads of the boys. He seemed a lot smaller when he was in the car. Randy took a step back and into Meg. She couldn't blame him for being intimidated because, to be frank, she was intimidated too.

Jazz's hologram not only towered over the boys but his white tanktop showed off his extremely toned body. The cornrows, stud earrings, and dog tags only added to the intimidation level.

"Go home before you get yourselves hurt," Jazz said, his green eyes staring each of them in the eyes.

"What, you gonna beat us down or something?" Grady was either very brave or very stupid. Either way, Meg couldn't help but to admire how he was trying to defend her.

"Listen boy," Jazz growled. "_I_ am not the one who you need to fear. And if you care for Meg then she needs to come with me. _Now_."

Reluctantly, the boys stepped aside. Jazz went to reach for Meg but stopped right before the hologram touched her. She shoved past her friends and jogged over to Jazz's passenger door. As she reached to pull his door open, she tried to give a reassuring smile to Grady and Randy. When she went to pull the door open, however, there was no response.

The hologram was standing by Jazz's driver's door, completely motionless. It was if it was frozen. The sounds of jet engines suddenly blasted in the sky and despite their far off distance, the noise was overwhelmingly loud. Meg curled her fingers up into the door handle, holding it as tightly as she could.

"Jazz, what's going on?" she whispered, her voice quivering with fear. Jazz's door handle slipped from her grip as he rose up in his transformation. By the time he was towering above them, his battle visor and mask was in place with his machine gun loading.

"I won't let them hurt any of you," Jazz said in his normal voice as he stared off in the direction that the jets were coming from.

Screams were coming from inside the grocery store and the few customers that had been outside were rushing to get to the sanctuary that the store offered. Jazz briefly considered sending the humans into the safety of the store but when he activated his long range visuals, he realized that there wasn't enough time. The grocery store was on a corner and surrounded by trees with fields on the other side of the streets. Unless by pure bad luck, no further humans would be involved with this.

Jazz knelt down to brace himself. His weapons were meant for close combat and his machine gun would prove practically useless against the aerial fighters. The Autobot let out a growl, hating the odds but he knew that there was no other choice than for him to confront the Decepticons.

"If I go down, I want the three of you to spread out in different directions. Don't stop running until you're safe. And Meg do not, I repeat _do not_, stay with me." The girl nearly broke down in tears right then and there at what Jazz had just said. There was no reassurance and he said it in a way that made her believe that it was a grim fact that she would soon have to face. Well he would just have to face the fact that she was not going to leave him. He promised to stay by her side and she was _not_ going to let it be a one-sided deal.

The jets were on them within seconds of their coming into view. Starscream came straight at Jazz and then veered at the last second, circling around them with his wingtip slicing into the concrete parking lot. Jazz peppered him with shots from his shielded machine gun and taught the aerial commander not to get to close. Starscream pulled himself up and tore off into the sky.

_"Looks like Megatron failed once again. Couldn't even kill a small pathetic cretin like you," _Starscream yelled out in their low, rumbling language. It took all of Jazz's self control not to fire off some smart ass remark. No matter how much he wanted to goad Starscream, he knew that there was no way that he could fend off Starscream's rage on his own.

_"I suppose I will just have to do one of the many things that Megatron could never do!" _To prove his statement, Starscream started strafing the Autobot and humans. Grady and Randy threw themselves to the ground but Meg and Jazz took a step so that they were closer together.

The lone Autobot whipped himself around to fire at the three Seekers but they darted around him and were too far out of range to do any useful damage. Finally Jazz had had enough. He withdrew his machine gun and walked forward and away from the humans with his arms outspread.

_"Come on flyboys! I know that you can dart around and fly all pretty but can you handle a fight?! A _real_ fight. Come down here and prove yourselves!"_

Out of nowhere, Skywarp appeared and slammed his fist into Jazz's face before teleporting off again with cackles of glee. The upside of that was that Jazz had them closer. The next time he felt that odd and brief sensation with that bizarre sound of the atmosphere being manipulated. As soon as Skywarp appeared behind, Jazz whirled around and activated his electromagnet to grab the Decepticon. Skywarp gave a surprised roar when he struck out with his free hand. Jazz easily caught it and threw Skywarp to the ground. Jazz's telescoping sword erupted from his left arm and he struck down at the Decepticon with all of his strength while he had him cornered. But it wasn't fast enough and Jazz's sword plunged straight into the concrete.

Jazz cried out in pain as Thundercracker dropped out of the sky and tackled him, wrenching Jazz's sword from the ground. The two beings tumbled to the ground, both of them landing punches whenever possible. Meg and the boys barely managed to dash out of the way of the flailing limbs. The very ground shook with each punch and metal groaned in stressed agony.

_"Just give up Autobot!"_ Thundercracker roared as he slammed Jazz's head into the pavement. _"You're outnumbered and you care too much for the organics! The Decepticons are going to prevail!" _Jazz grabbed Thundercracker's wrist and twisted it, forcing the Decepticon off of him. He kept twisting the arm until the Seeker was crying out in pain.

_"By Decepticons you mean Starscream and Skywarp, right? Because the last time I heard about you, you were drifting off to the Nuetrals. Still too afraid of Starscream to leave?"_ Thundercracker bellowed with rage. He twisted his body so that Jazz was against his back and with a mighty heave, he flipped them both over so that he crushed the Autobot into the pavement.

Time slowed down. Jazz tried to recalibrate his jarred systems but they didn't come back to him fast enough. He could only watch in horror as Thundercracker turned his head toward Meg upon hearing her scream. Slowly Thundercracker stood up, a massive cannon forming on his torso.

_"Time to show you just how much good your pity does," _Thundercracker growled as the crosshairs centered on Meg. The terrified girl stared right back at Thundercracker with wide and fearful eyes, taking several harried steps away from him.

As the cannon was warming up, there was the distinct sound of a transformation. Just before the cannonball of plasma exploded from Thundercracker, a red blur leapt up in the air behind him and came down into Thundercracker's upper torso, forcing the Decepticon to fall flat against the ground with Sideswipe atop of him. Just as Thundercracker was pushed into the pavement, his cannon went off like a crack of thunder. Thundercracker's namesake and primary weapon was completely mutilated. Sideswipe leapt off of the downed Decepticon, tucking and rolling so that he was beside Jazz. A quick relay allowed Jazz to know immediately what Prowl's plan was. Jazz's only response was to know where Meg was.

With the rest of the Autobots distracting the remaining Decepticons, Sideswipe took the opportunity to run over to Meg and scoop her up. It took a moment for Meg to recognize the twin. He was much larger and bulkier from the armor that would serve him well in combat. Everything about him, especially the way that he carried himself, illuminated him as a warrior. Carefully he picked Meg up and carried her the short distance to the kneeling Jazz. The downed mech glanced over her to make sure that she was all right and his battle mask kept him from revealing the relief he felt at seeing that she was okay.

With knowing that Jazz was okay, Meg looked around for Grady and Randy to find them standing behind a very familiar Jeep J8. With relief she saw them somewhat reluctantly climb into Hound before he tore off towards the grocery store, flanked by Mirage who was also in his alternate mode.

"Hound and Mirage will protect the humans in the store and you're going to stay with me. The others will take care of the Decepticons." There was no time for any more explanation and he couldn't tell her that he was going to try and get her to Mirage and Hound considering that they were less likely to fall than he was.

With Meg standing behind him, Jazz took up a defensive stance and would fend off any of the Seekers when they came close. It was one of the few times in his life when he actually didn't go looking for a fight.

It was Prowl and the twins who threw themselves into the fight. Prowl was not happy that the best fighting partners for him were the twins but he had to go with whatever odds served them better. Although Hound was the better long range shot, the scout would be far more careful working with Mirage to protect the humans. Besides, he didn't want to split up the pairs that would perform the best together. Each of them was focused on an individual Seeker and when that Seeker went to attack the guardians, the Decepticon had two Autobots to deal with. The majority of the time, the Decepticons would fire plasma blasts at Prowl and the twins with the other Autobots taking whatever shots they could. It wasn't long before the Decepticons were feeling the results of being outnumbered. Except while the Autobots outnumbered them, the Seekers had the pure firepower. This was an advantage they were using.

Hound and Mirage were standing in front of the store, guns raised and trained on the Seekers, just as Jazz was. The twenty or so group of people stared out of the large panes of glass, watching the fight from behind the defensive bulks of their guardians. Three young children were crying as their mothers, and in one case a father, held them close. Several adults and teenagers were crying while others were just too shocked to do anything but watch. All of their attempts to call the outside world were met with unresponsive cell phones. It was clear to them who the good guys were and who the bad guys were. When Thundercracker staggered to his feet after Sideswipe jumped him and was remarkably able to function, there were gasps of despair and shock while one daring man actually let out a 'boo'. Several angry shouts told him to shut up.

The scout and spy had become a well-oiled machine when it came to their teamwork. They had spent a long time surviving in the vast reaches of space and the only way they could have survived was by working as a team. Without warning, Skywarp appeared in front of the pair and shot Mirage's knees out from under him. Mirage out of the way, Skywarp leveled his plasma cannon at the terrified humans within the store. They would have been killed if Hound hadn't run forward and taken the shot in his midsection. Sunstreaker should have been concentrating on Skywarp but he was presently too busy trying to shoot down Starscream as Sideswipe desperately clung to the bucking F-22. Everyone's attention was so trained on Hound that only a few people noticed Mirage's image flicker and disappear. No one had noticed when Hound initially created a replica hologram that replaced Mirage while the spy cloaked himself.

As Skywarp towered over Hound to deliver the final blow, the jet suddenly doubled over in pain before having his head thrust up as if he had been struck with an uppercut. From there, Skywarp had his feet kicked out from under him by Hound. Mirage uncloaked himself with his foot pinning Skywarp and his gun trained on his spark chamber.

With Sunstreaker finally retrieving his brother off of Starscream and Jazz squaring off with Thundercracker once again, Hound and Mirage took care of Skywarp. To keep the Seeker from teleporting off once again, Mirage held Skywarp in an unbreakable hold from behind while Hound carefully unlocked a trailer that had been abandoned in front of the store when the fighting had first begun. It was short work getting the doors open without breaking anything and then throwing the Decepticon inside. Closing the doors, the Autobots retreated so that they were closer to the humans and took turns at shooting the trailer through. Since Skywarp couldn't teleport through solid objects, he was trapped within the trailer with no way to defend himself in the oppressively tight quarters.

It wasn't until they heard the scream that the Autobots and remaining Decepticon looked over to the fight between Jazz and Thundercracker. It was obvious that Jazz was lagging and instead of taking offensive strikes, he was just trying to do his best to defend himself and Meg. When the lieutenant once again brought out his telescoping sword, he managed to impale Thundercracker in the abdomen but didn't hit any vitals. However it proved to be horrendously painful from the earlier blow that mutilated the cannon centered on the Decepticon's torso. Enraged by the pain, Thundercracker grabbed Jazz's sword near the hilt and broke it off. Jazz cried out and stumbled back with pain. The Decepticon than used a right hook that shouldn't have brought Jazz down but did. Using Jazz's own sword, Thundercracker impaled Jazz's foot into the disrupted concrete so that the Autobot was pinned with his chassis to the ground.

"Run Meg!"

Before he could make sure that the girl was doing as he told her to, Thundercracker began punching and kicking Jazz into unconsciousness. It was brutal and primitive, giving Jazz no honor in his impending death.

Meg ran as fast as she could. Her legs absolutely burned with the effort and she felt like she was about to hit the pavement at any moment.

"Prowl!" she screamed as loud as she could. "_Prowl!!_" The second-in-command saw Meg running towards him and the fight against Starscream. Prowl landed a blast in Starscream's chest running over to Meg, entrusting the twins to handle themselves against the Decepticon. Kneeling down in front of the human as she struggled to catch her breath, all she could do was point over to Jazz being killed by Thundercracker.

_"Sideswipe!"_ Prowl bellowed in Cybertronian. The red twin immediately heard and if he had any reluctance of leaving his twin, he didn't show it as he ran to Prowl. Having picked Meg up, Prowl handed her over to Sideswipe with the unspoken order to keep her safe. The black right hand cradled Meg to his chest while Sideswipe formed his rifle with his freehand. Prowl reentered the fight against Starscream with Sideswipe running at Thundercracker, blitzing him with all the firepower he could. The red twin shook as he let loose a rocket from his shoulder mount. Thundercracker staggered back from the impacts and fell right over Jazz's pinned leg.

The downed lieutenant gave out a cry of pain but it was a cry that offered hope that Jazz was still hanging in there. Sideswipe was still firing on Thundercracker as the twin deposited Meg with Jazz. Although injured, Jazz slowly extended an arm around Meg to pull her closer to him. His large chassis kept him from resting his head on the ground and the space created the perfect area for Meg to crouch down and stay relatively safe. He wrapped his arms around his head as she came close to his masked face. Meg reached up to place her hands on the side of his face, tears flooding down her cheeks. The dark blue visor turned to look down on her face and she knew that he was watching her.

"Please hold on Jazz. Please hold on," Meg cried. Jazz's arms moved her closer to him.

"Save your tears girly," Jazz's somewhat muffled voice told her from behind his mask. "There's no need for you to cry cuz I ain't goin' anywhere. I told you that, remember?"

The unlikely pair stayed that way, the human girl crouched beneath the wounded alien soldier, her tiny hands lightly stroking his mask to prove that she was still with him too.

There was no telling when the ground stopped shaking and the air became quiet before the far off sound of metal shrieking as the metal was torn apart. Jazz feebly raised his head high enough to see what was happening while Meg looked between the space between his two arms. They saw Thundercracker and Starscream prying open the trailer to pull Skywarp out and the Autobots showing the unlikely mercy of not firing while the Decepticons retrieved their fallen. Sideswipe stood protectively over Jazz to be sure that the Autobot fallen would remain unharmed.

The only sound in the grocery store parking lot was the sound of the two retreating jets holding up the bulk of their comrade. Then the sound of hydraulics came as the Autobots walked over to Jazz. Hound lingered behind for a moment, leaning down to look into grocery store to make sure that everyone was all right. Once he had that assurance, he jogged to catch up to his comrades as they circled around Jazz.

The Autobot lieutenant loosened his protective stance around Meg and allowed Mirage to gently pull her out. The spy held her close to him while taking several steps back to keep out of the way but still allowing her to see what was happening. The girl's hand slammed against her mouth to stifle her cry when Jazz shrieked as his sword was pulled from his own ankle. His visor went completely dark, his body going into stasis to shut off the horrid sensations of the searing pain.

"He was still recovering from his resurrection," Prowl explained in English for Meg's sake. "He should never have been in this fight." Completely ignorant to the thought process that Meg's mind took, Prowl didn't notice the way that she guiltily hung her head to avoid looking at any of the Autobots. Sideswipe, however, did notice.

"It isn't your fault," he said in a strangely serious voice. Everyone but Meg and Sunstreaker were surprised that he was speaking in English. "Meg, look at me." The girl turned her shimmering green eyes towards the red twin who looked her dead in the eye. "It wasn't your fault. He was the closest to you and we didn't know about the attack until he sent the distress beacon for aid."

Meg glumly nodded her head in reluctant acceptance before her eyes fell back to the limp form of Jazz. The Autobots began conversing in their own language, trying to figure out how they would get Jazz to Ratchet without bringing further notice. The small town that they were in would have undoubtedly noticed the presence of military jets and soon more humans would be coming.

So worried about their predicament, none of the Autobots noticed the human approaching until there was a polite cough from behind that caught their attention. The lone trucker instinctively took a step back when the enormous mechs turned around to face him. Meg could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped and slowly took off his ratty John Deere baseball cap.

"I take it ya'll need help with your friend. If you want, I got a big rig that you can load 'im in and get 'im outta here 'fore anyone else sees ya'll." The Autobots exchanged confused glances. They weren't all too sure what exactly the human was saying to them with his heavy accent and the fact that the human actually came up to them. Meg, guessing at the cause of the confusion, told them that the man was willing to help get Jazz to safety.

"We greatly appreciate your aid. How long will the preparation take before we may depart?" It took a moment for the trucker to translate what Prowl had said.

"The only problem is that I just arrived wi' a full load when…" the man trailed off, motioning to the torn up parking lot surrounding them. "I already talked to the others and they're all willin' to help out and get it all unloaded. It won't take that long with all of us."

The Autobots exchanged looks that only they could discern. After their luck had taken such a horrendous turn for the worse, it was starting to rise again. And the most surprising part of that was that the humans were the pinnacle of that change of luck.

The humans continued surprising the Autobots. Having backed the trailer to the loading dock, everyone in the store who was physically able helped in unloading the freight. Meg tried to help but Randy and Grady came over stating that they didn't think it was a good idea with everything that she had just gone through. Sideswipe, already hesitant to put her down, was easily persuaded by the two young men. Meg knew that there was more to it than just that by the unreadable exchange of looks between her friends.

Before long the merchandise was unloaded into the store. Unbeknownst to the store manager and a middle-aged customer, the Autobots overheard the man asking the manager about all of the food that would spoil since there had been no time to put all of it into the freezer.

"It doesn't matter," the Autobots overheard the woman respond. "There's a life at stake. If the owner makes a big deal out of it then I'll reimburse him. My employees agreed to help as much as their budget allows." At seeing the Autobots' attention on them, the pair stopped while their nerves skyrocketed.

As they told Prowl that the trailer was ready, the truck driver pulled the massive rig up. Hound walked to the backend of the trailer, sitting in the opening and then scooting in to allow enough room for Mirage to hand him Jazz. Slowly Hound pulled Jazz while Mirage pushed him in. Meg watched all of this before looking over her shoulder at Sideswipe who was still holding her.

"Could I ride in the trailer with them?"

"Uhhh," Sideswipe drawled out. He had no idea what his answer should be so he did the next best thing. "Ask Prowl." Meg's shoulders dropped in disappointment and slight annoyance as Sideswipe put her down.

Spotting the large black and white mech, Meg hesitantly called over. It took several attempts to work up her courage to ask the stoic mech permission. Right before he was about to say 'no', Mirage stepped forward.

"Hound is willing to watch over her as long as she promises to follow his directions," Mirage informed his superior just as Hound, having overheard, asked the spy to do. Hound could have just sent a comm. link to Prowl but the scout didn't want Meg left out of the conversation since it was pertaining to her.

Somewhat reluctantly, Prowl agreed and Meg was pulling herself into the trailer. She used the light streaming in from the open doors of the rig. It was eerie to see Jazz's injured legs in the light and then for the rest of his body to be hidden in the depths of the trailer. Two bright blue orbs were glowing at the other end, watching her as she approached. When Meg ran out of guiding light, a flood of light came from Hound. The girl sidestepped the pools of liquid gliding from Jazz's wounds. She tried her best to avoid looking at the charred and torn metal with the circuitry underneath.

Hound was crouched down on his knees, crouched besides Jazz with a wire running from the scout's wrist to a port in Jazz's abdomen. Not wanting to get in Hound's way, Meg settled beside Jazz's clawed right hand which was undamaged. She curled her legs under her and rested her upper body on his hand, her left arm folded as a pillow under her head while her right arm was draped over Jazz's finger. Closing her eyes, she listened as the trailer doors were closed and she knew that they were shrouded in darkness. Even Hound had off-lined his optics, not wanting to see an Autobot as renowned as Jazz in such a horrendous state. Hound used his interlink with Jazz and scanners on Meg to monitor their conditions.

The trailer began rumbling as the engine started up and they all jerked as the rig started forward. Every once in a while Hound would reactivate his optics and look over at Meg, the tiny human unmoving from her place besides Jazz. The scout had heard many things about the humans from his companions on Earth but only Bumblebee had mentioned their loyalty. The yellow scout had mentioned how Sam had come for him when he was captured by Sector Seven and how the boy had been unwilling to leave him after Starscream's attack had taken off his legs. But seeing Meg with Jazz, Hound realized that the human's loyalty to those they cared for was undying. With a sad smile, Hound off-lined his optics once again.

It was during this time that Hound had his optics off-lined that a dim blue glow came from the severely damaged mech that everyone was so focused on. He knew from the link that Hound was there and he knew from the weight on his hand that Meg was with him as well. More than anything, he was comforted by the girl's presence. As gently as he could, which was very easy considering how weak he was, Jazz repositioned his hand so that one of his fingers was wrapped loosely around Meg's waist. He felt the girl resettle into the curve in between his side and top finger. With all of his energon flowing to his vitals, the rest of him was cooling off and the soft glowing warmth from her tiny body radiated into the cold metal of his hands. His thick chassis prevented her from seeing the contented glow of blue light before the dark visor dimmed to black.

There was only one thought as Jazz let himself drift back into stasis: Ironhide was wrong. Humanity really wasn't all that bad.


	13. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note**__**: Thank you for the reviews and reads! I have overcome the brick wall known as writer's block! Yay! I've always known that this story would be based on Jazz's recovery and personally, I think that something as big as being resurrected would have major implications. I don't think I've read any story that did the same thing as this but if there is one that is similar, please let me know. I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

Meg could feel her heart resonate with every beat of Jazz's spark. In perfect harmony, their life forces were pushed through their bodies. No one bothered the girl as she sat in an unused corner of the medical bay. She was out of Ratchet's way and that haunted look in her eyes kept the Autobots from asking her to leave. At first there was hope that was literally shimmering in her green eyes but as time lapsed with no progress, that shimmering dimmed until it left her eyes dull and hollow. It was the first time that the Autobots had personally experienced the human expression that the eyes were the windows into the soul and it was unnerving to see into the desolate girl's soul.

How Meg was able to bond with Jazz so quickly was beyond all of the Autobots with the exception of Bumblebee. The scout knew from experience the strength of the connection that had been forged. Every time he went to check on Jazz and would see Meg in her corner, he would hurry all the more faster to check in on Sam and Mikaela.

While Ratchet spent the most time with Meg with her being in his medical bay, it was Optimus who spoke to her the most. When the Autobot leader would come in, he would always inquire about Jazz's state before going over to Meg and asking if she was all right. Each time she would nod and force a small smile. Out of the humans, Epps was the one who spent the most time with her. Lennox only had an older brother but Epps had an older and younger sister so he knew how to deal with females. Every few hours he could come in and bring food or blankets or stand watch for Meg while she went to relieve herself.

The girl herself would rarely speak on her own accord unless it was to say 'Thank you'. Sometimes she would mutter incoherently in her sleep and if Ratchet hadn't been concentrating so much on Jazz, he would have let his curiosity win to listen in on what the girl was saying. However, he would have had to have been deaf not to catch certain words like 'brother', 'idiot', 'cocky', 'schmuck', and with that combination of words, Jazz's name would inevitably follow.

Although he would never admit it, Ratchet was glad for her mostly silent company. The girl was never in the way and she would never pester him for any developments, always waiting for him to tell her. And something that he would only share with Optimus, and eventually Jazz, was that whenever the girl spoke, there was always a small response in Jazz: a twitch of the finger, the fluctuation of his spark, a brightening of the optic. The more forlorn her voice, the stronger Jazz's reaction. It was how Ratchet was able to gage Jazz's condition. It was what kept the CMO going and gave him hope.

But no matter how much Ratchet hoped that once again Jazz would defy Death itself, there was no denying that Jazz's condition was only going downhill. While he would react to Meg's voice, those shows of life were few and far in between. Finally it came to the point that Ratchet threw his tools down and stalked over to Meg. He scooped the startled girl up into his hands and, as gently as his mood allowed, deposited her on the metal slab besides Jazz. Meg stared up at Ratchet with a fearful expression, completely bewildered as to what was happening.

"Talk to him," Ratchet explained gruffly. After a moment's pause, Meg nodded and walked over to Jazz's head. She rested her hand on his cheek, stroking the engravings. Ratchet didn't listen to the girl as she begged his lieutenant to hold on. Instead he monitored Jazz's spark as it battled to continue giving the energy that Jazz's body needed to live. He monitored how hearing Meg's voice, there was a small surge.

Having gained his first round of evidence, Ratchet then called his comrades in. Optimus, Ironhide, and Bumblebee came into the medical bay. The four had the strongest bonds with Jazz after all they had gone through together in the search for the Allspark. If anyone could call Jazz back, it would be his brothers and sister. Ratchet asked his fellow Autobots, in turn, to speak to Jazz. Bumblebee was first. He told Jazz about the cities that he, Sam, and Mikaela had visited and all of the cultures he had seen and wanted to share with his brother. Ironhide, the most reluctant, gave a grunt that he needed someone to spar with. Optimus, of course, was last being the one for the more dramatic speeches. He told his lieutenant that he needed his most courageous and loyal soldier and friend. There was more flare and eloquence to it, but Ratchet was more concerned with Jazz's response. And there had been a response from the fallen soldier. There was hope.

The four brothers gathered around their fallen. Meg stayed in her place besides Jazz's head, her hand still resting on a raised bar beneath his dark optic. Her eyes remained on the towering mechs encircling the table.

"Jazz is still hanging in there with that infamous stubborn programming of his," Ratchet explained. "But he is barely there. He responds to us when we speak to him. There is no doubt that he has not lost his will to live." Both Ratchet and Optimus spared a glance at Meg after Ratchet's last sentence because they knew who had helped Jazz rediscover his love of life.

"Although Jazz wants to live, his body is irreparable. I will not go into details because they are no longer important. His shell has just gone through too much stress. I knew that there would be a problem with his resurrection and it has finally arisen. The only solution I have arrived at is to build him a new shell. However, since Wheeljack is not here, I will have no aid in building it so it will be impossible for me to keep him alive while he is in his current form. I simply cannot split my attention into two crucial areas and to be frank no mech here is suitable enough to aid me.

"The only conclusion I have been able to arrive at is to temporarily transplant his programming and spark into a transient form until his new shell has been completed. It will be extremely dangerous but frankly, he is so close to death as it is that there really is no risk in attempting this."

"What transient form will he take?" Ironhide bluntly asked. He was not exactly happy with this plan but he was hardwired for warfare while the medical field was Ratchet's arena.

"I need most of the materials for his main structure so he will be shorter in stature-"

"Make him the human's size," Bumblebee interrupted, taking a step forward with bright and eager optics. "This is Jazz's opportunity to truly experience an alien culture without watching from the outside. It would mean everything to him. And Meg would watch over him, she won't let anything bad happen to him. Not to mention the other humans and we'll be here as well to safeguard him." Bumblebee's words were such a rush that Meg had to concentrate to make sure that she would catch everything he said. When Optimus looked down at her, she nodded her head once in an unspoken agreement.

"It would leave more materials for you to work with Ratchet, with the human's smaller size. And he would have no need for an alternate mode if he had a hologram to disguise his true build." Ratchet seemed to consider what Optimus had to say while Ironhide huffed and crossed his arms over his massive chest. When Optimus glared at him, Ironhide scowled and threw his arms down.

"What? The smaller he's going to be the bigger pain he's going to be. Look at the slag he's gotten himself into as it is."

"Not to mention," Bumblebee quickly interjected in his assumed role of devil's advocate, "that if he had a smaller form he would be able to hide better from the Seekers if they attack. _And_ his strengths are in his speed and hand-to-hand combat rather than firepower."

"And what would he do if he came across the Decepticons, Bumblebee?" Ironhide grumbled. "Kick them in the foot and hope to cause a dent? Not to mention the slagger would defend the humans and it would take only one shot to disintegrate him."

"Would the Decepticons notice if he was with me?" Meg finally asked, speaking very carefully. "I mean, I'm only really associated with him and none of you unless the Decepticons have been spying on us lately or something. They wouldn't care if some guy was hanging out with me."

"But they would notice if a new human was with us and that would make him a target by association…just as you were," Ironhide pointed out. Meg bit the corner of her lip as she thought. She had an idea but she didn't know if the protective Autobots would go for it. With nothing to lose, she decided to tell them what she thought.

"My grandparents have a beach house in Santa Barbara. It's an hour or so away from here but it's quiet. There are other people there so it isn't desolate but it's still very private. My grandparents are at their house in Vegas so no one's at the beach house. And there's a naval base near by. I mean, not within walking distance because it's closer to Oxnard, but we could go there if there's trouble."

Optimus was very quiet as he deliberated. While he didn't like the idea of sending his friend and soldier away from them, there was more danger in him being so close to the Autobots. While the humans were at risk by association, this was different. Optimus couldn't put into words why this was different and he would have never admitted that he felt that Jazz's life was more important than the human's because he didn't feel like that at all. The situations were just different.

And Bumblebee was right that Jazz would have taken full advantage of the opportunity to actually live in an alien culture if he could. It would be paradise for the lieutenant. After all that Jazz had sacrificed in the long years of the war, Optimus knew that he deserved this and more. If Optimus could give his friend a chance to live his dream, then the commander would give it to him. As long as Ratchet felt secure that the distance between Jazz and his new form would not pose an issue in addition to having the knowledge that the naval base being open as sanctuary, Optimus knew what his decision was.

* * *

It had been the first time that Meg had really spent time with the other humans since her arrival at the base. She was quiet and to herself which was the complete opposite to Sam and Mikaela. The differing personalities put a damper on their normal activities so to compromise, they watched _Meet the Fockers_. There was a big screen television set up in a rather large building set up next to the main building of the abandoned steel mill. Some of the mill's equipment still remained but it was gathering dust in the far corner, covered with dust and spider webs. While the military barracks had a common room, the building beside the main one had been taken over by Sam an Mikaela since it had a garage door that Bumblebee could easily walk through although it wasn't manual. Also, the teenagers would commonly sleep in the building since the strict military rules apparently applied to the barracks. Sam and Mikaela figured out early on that it wasn't the military that imposed the rules but rather the soldiers against the annoying teens.

The most important part of the Sam and Mikaela's building was the television set against the western wall. All sorts of wires spouting from it, connecting the television set to gaming systems and the DVD player. DVD cases were piled haphazardly amongst the wires with the cases rarely holding the DVD that it was supposed to. The humans were sprawled across the mix-matched furniture that had been bought from garage sales across the county.

Bumblebee sat behind the furniture, leaning back on his hands with his head cocked playfully to the side. He watched along with the two girls as Sam tried his best to get the television to work.

"Where the hell is Epps?" Sam grumbled more to himself than anyone else. "He gives us this kick ass _HD _TV and not only doesn't teach us how to use it, but we don't even have the HD programming." Mikaela rolled her eyes from where she laid on the couch, rummaging through her jeans pocket to find a stick of gum.

"I believe," Bumblebee stated with a smile obvious in his voice, "that Epps and Lennox are in their quarters playing Xbox Live on Epps' new television." Sam whirled around with wide eyes and his mouth open in aghast disbelief.

"Without me?!" He would have run over to the separate human barracks if it wasn't for Meg mentioning how Epps had told her that he and the rest of their unit were going to lock the doors to keep any 'cheating aliens' from interfering with their game play. And that they would call Sam in if they needed a player to sacrifice. Sam threw his hands up, still holding the DVD case, and sulked over to the couch. Having found her gum, Mikaela plucked the DVD case from Sam and, after pressing a few buttons, had the main menu up and running. Sam tipped his head back far enough so that he could look upside down at Bumblebee.

"So not fair." Bumblebee straightened his head as he looked at Sam's upturned face.

"You have an Xbox 360 at home."

"It's the principle of it. They've broken the most important male code…share your toys."

"My brother always said that the most important male code is _not_ to share your toys," Meg commented with a small smile. Mikaela turned her head in surprise to look at Meg's sudden commentary with a smile of her own. Sam, caught up in his injustice, was oblivious to the exchange between the girls.

"Yeah, well, that's the minority rule," he said, causing Meg to roll her eyes. Sam flipped around so that he could look up at his friend more easily. "Hey Bee, you can hack into the game since it's over the Internet right? Maybe you can mess with their scores or something." There was a bit of static as Bee's radios broadcasted.

"With great power comes great responsibility," Tobey McGuire told them. Sam groaned.

"Yeah, but it's your _responsibility _to be my guardian."

"And what does that have to do with hacking into games?"

"As my guardian you're supposed to keep me mentally, physically, and emotionally safe. This is killing my emotions here!"

"If I had known that my responsibilities as your guardian were that broad, I wouldn't have signed up. I'm supposed to protect you from Decepticons, that's about it."

Sam visibly wilted, his arms dangling over the side of the couch and his chin pressed into the plush cushioning of the back. His big brown eyes suddenly lifted to peer up at Bumblebee through lush eyelashes. The hazel eyes began shimmering with a mixture of hope and melancholy. Bumblebee returned the expression by cocking his head to the side and brightening his optics so that they were the most shimmering shade of cyan blue. The battle of the puppy dog eyes was on.

It was an equal match until Sam's lower lip began quivering but when Bumblebee was about to respond he suddenly pulled back and his optics dimmed. The playfulness instantly evaporated.

"I'll be back soon. Don't wait for me to start the movie," Bumblebee told them as he nimbly rose to his feet. Everyone watched him leave and Sam propped himself up on the back of the sofa.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked, genuinely concerned in his best friend's sudden change. Bumblebee looked over his shoulder and gave a quick nod along with a quick string of clicks as he lifted the manual rolling garage door.

"Leave the soldiers alone and I'll play against you back at home," Bumblebee compromised. Sam frowned because while it was amazingly awesome playing with Bee over Xbox Live, it completely avoided the injustice that he was being faced as a spoiled only kid.

"Not fair! I'll just ask Sideswipe to help me!" Sam hollered as Bee disappeared outside the giant factory door. The sound of his laughter continued echoing in the old building as he pulled the massive rolling garage door down, the waved metal clanking loud enough to barely cover up the laughter.

* * *

It wasn't long before Bumblebee returned. Wanting some fresh air, Sam and Meg had used a system of pulleys and chains to roll up the garage door. When Bumblebee came back, he stood at the doorway, his hand holding on to something outside as he leaned in. The teenagers instantly noticed him but it was Meg who caught his gaze. Their eyes/optics locked, Bumblebee gave a deft nod of his head, gesturing outside of the building. Meg lifted her eyebrows, unsure if he was really suggesting her. A nod on Bumblebee's part told her he was.

Glancing at Sam and Mikaela to give a confused shrug, Meg pulled herself up from the sofa. She walked hesitantly along until Bee came further into the doorway and started to urgently wave her along. Breaking into a jog, the moment she was beside the yellow Autobot he turned around and began walking towards the main building. Several times he had to check his pace to keep from out walking the human girl. In the most fluid motion Meg ever thought a robot could possess, Bee knelt down but in the same motion pivoted so that he could face her as she walked behind him.

"It'll be quicker if I carried you," he explained with his hands lowered on the ground for her. Immediately Meg was unsure of what was going on. Why would it be so necessary for them to be quicker and why was she the only one involved? The only answer she could come up with was Jazz. The horror must have shone on her face.

"He wants to see you," Bumblebee told her, his voice smiling.

Meg practically jumped onto the metal laid out in front of her. Bumblebee used both of his hands to cradle the girl to his chest as he set off in a brisk jog. Meg tried kneeling at first but the motion just kept knocking her down so she decided not to fight it and let herself sit. She held onto Bee's thumb and one of his fingers for the extra reassurance.

It was a quick run to the medical bay and when they arrived, they found Optimus, Ironhide, Prowl, and of course Ratchet. Only a few select Autobots and military officials knew of the transference to keep word from getting out. As far as the others knew, Ratchet was still working on Jazz who would be later announced to be in a stable condition.

The medical bay was actually in fairly good working order considering it was in a rundown and abandoned building. There were a few pieces of equipment and at the very center, and focal point, were two tables. Granted it was incredibly sparse to the medical bays Ratchet was used to working in considering that he needed to make all of his equipment for his current med bay from scratch. So having performed the transference was nothing short of a miracle. Ratchet seemed to be performing a lot of miracles when it came to Jazz as of late.

All of the mechs were circled around one of the tables and not the one that held Jazz's eerily lifeless body. Optimus and Prowl stepped aside to let Bumblebee through and he put Meg down on the table. The girl froze with shock. There, standing in front of her on the table, was a lithe protoform that still managed to look solid despite the myriad components that composed his structure. He looked a lot like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had when they had first arrived however the difference was that this protoform had distinctive attributes that belonged to Jazz, especially in his face. The only major difference was that he was missing his Batman antlers.

Meg could _feel_ all of the optics staring at her, waiting for her reaction. She slowly walked up to Jazz and looked up at him in shock.

"I didn't think you guys could get any shorter," she blatantly stated, feigning the shock. Jazz's smug grin dropped.

"Still taller than you." And to prove his point he took a step closer so that the two were mere inches apart. Meg had to look up at him, noticing that he was around, if not slightly taller, than Lennox's six foot three inch stature.

Jazz's smirk once again left when Meg flung her arms around his neck and hugged him, standing on her toes to reach. For a moment Jazz was unsure what to do but it didn't take long for him to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Do me a favor and never do something that stupid again," Meg muttered.

"I've already 'ad others ask me that and it still ain't really workin' out," Jazz said with a smirk directed over Meg's head at Optimus and Ratchet. The commander just shook his head and sighed while Ratchet gave a glare back that would have sent the hounds of hell scurrying off with their tails between their legs.

Reluctantly Meg pulled herself from Jazz and when she remembered that they were still the focus of attention, her face turned bright red.

"I didn' know humans could change color!" Jazz said with a laugh. Meg shoved Jazz but it of course didn't make him go anywhere. Bumblebee, being the only one who knew what it meant when a human blushed, quickly brought up the important subject which earned him an appreciative glance from Meg.

"I'm going to follow you and Meg up to Santa Barbara where you'll stay until Ratchet is done with the repairs."

"It should be in approximately a week," the CMO interjected. "Of course, knowing you Jazz, you probably hid other injuries so repairs may take longer." Jazz just flashed a disarming and trying-to-be-innocent-but-obviously-guilty smile. Ratchet only grumbled, knowing the lieutenant well enough to translate the smile.

"So I get to live with the humans for a while?" Optimus nodded in confirmation.

"Of course you know without my saying that you are still under Autobot jurisdiction," the Autobot commander said in his distinctive resonating voice. "You will be considered off-duty, again, but you _will not_ engage either humans or Decepticons unless it is in self defense or defending Meg. Am I understood soldier?"

"Gotcha. No fighting. Unless it's a Decepticon."

"Jazz…" Optimus, Prowl, and Ratchet growled all at the same time. Jazz took a step back and raised his hands in submission.

"Aight, aight I get it. Fighting is the last resort." Suddenly the miniaturized Autobot looked at his raised hands. He twisted and turned them as he wiggled his fingers and thumbs. They were most definitely not the claws he was used to.

"You are going to have to project a human hologram over your entire form to blend in. It would be easier if you had the rough skeletal match of a human," Ratchet explained.

"Huh," was Jazz's only response as he continued examining his new appendages. He pivoted slightly until he was facing Ironhide and then began examining his middle finger, which he was raised up alone. Ironhide growled but Jazz feigned obliviousness, continuing with his self examination. Meg blew air through her nose in a quiet snort while rubbing the side of her face. She should have known that Jazz would be a handful.

Soon Optimus, Prowl, and Ironhide excused themselves from the medbay with business to attend to.

"_You know, that nuisance is getting more and more 'vacations'," _Ironhide muttered to Prowl and Optimus as they walked down the hall. _"I'm starting to think that he's doing it on purpose now."_

_"Honestly,"_ Optimus replied. _"There's no telling with that one."_

Bumblebee was the only one who lingered while Ratchet began busying himself with work on Jazz's original body. The miniaturized Jazz looked over at his lifeless shell, an unreadable expression on his face. It was the first time that he wasn't his cheerful self and it told Meg that she had been watching a façade since Bumblebee had brought her in. The moment that said yellow scout began talking, Jazz snapped his attention away from his body and the façade was back in place.

"So, I was thinking," Bumblebee said as he placed his hands on the table. "Sam could really use your help and it'll be the perfect chance to work the kinks out of that hologram of yours." Jazz cocked his head to the side, a sly smile forming on his face.

The air around Jazz began fizzling until his hologram materialized over his entire form. Everything about him looked real and if Meg hadn't watched the hologram being activated, she would have swore that she was looking at one of the soldiers. Jazz's hologram had a square but defined face, his hair shaved immaculately close. The hologram's clothes were plain with a black t-shirt and baggy jeans held up by a belt with the Autobot insignia. Broad shoulders and massive muscled arms covered by flawless dark skin were causing Meg's eyes to widen and a very good, and yet very bad, feeling started to well up inside of her. She barely acknowledged the flame tattoo that wrapped around his upper right arm, instead her attention fixated on the hard muscles.

Ratchet, being the only Autobot able to register human pheromones, turned around and shot Jazz a look. Not wanting to embarrass Meg over her uncontrollable reactions, and the fact that Ratchet knew that Jazz knew very well how human females would react to this hologram, the CMO sent the other Autobot a message.

_**"Stop messing with the humans, Jazz." **_The mentioned lieutenant just smiled and shrugged.

_**"I just wanted to make sure my good looks translated into my hologram."**_ With Ratchet's original message apparently have gone right over Jazz's head, the CMO walked over to the table and slammed his hand behind Jazz. He deftly slid his hand and Jazz until the much smaller Autobot was forced over the edge of the table. The moment that Jazz had been pushed, he deactivated his hologram being too busy in trying to get away from the Hand of Death. Ratchet didn't even bother looking to make sure that his lieutenant was all right since he knew that Jazz's agility would have made him land on his feet. Plus, Ratchet made sure that this temporary form was very much 'Jazz proof' which meant a lot of reinforcing.

While Jazz ran a stream of very creative curse words by Ratchet, Bumblebee picked Meg up and gently placed her on the ground. The Autobot lieutenant continued his tirade even as Meg grabbed his hand and began pulling him from the medical bay. Jazz obliged by going along with the girl but he looked back behind him and continued with the insults. After Jazz, Meg, and Bumblebee left, Ratchet shook his head with a smile.

_"And this is the thanks I get."_

* * *

When the trio came into the human building, Fig was sitting on the couch apparently having abandoned his unit as they played _Halo 3_. He was grumbling incoherently in Spanish about Lennox and Epps cheating more than watching the movie. Mikaela and Fig looked up when they saw the newcomers and their reactions were surprised but different kinds. Mikaela's eyes widened significantly as she looked from Jazz then over to Meg who bit the corner of her lip, her eyes flicking to the side before settling back on Mikaela. Mikaela raised an eyebrow while giving a pointed look at Jazz's hologram disguise. Meg shook her head. Jazz raised his flawless eyebrows, having caught the interaction but not knowing what exactly had been said in the full on conversation. Even highly advanced alien saboteurs weren't capable of breaking woman's silent code. Sam was still watching the movie and had yet to notice the newbie.

While Jazz and Bumblebee approached the movie viewers, Mikaela jumped up and discreetly pulled Meg to the side.

"So he _isn't_ a…_special_ friend?" Mikaela whispered as she continued their earlier silent conversation, her eyes glued on Jazz's muscular back and very…ample…behind. Meg would have laughed if she wasn't battling the same urges. She was battling not only the urge to jump him but also to pull him outside and demand that he find a less alluring hologram. But of course she knew that the second battle was a lost cause knowing Jazz's attention seeking ways…and she had a feeling that the other battle might be a lost cause as well if she didn't keep herself in check.

"He's new. Military sent him over. Jazz and I are going to Los Angeles. Guess he's coming along with us to keep tabs and all."

"You better be careful being alone with him," Mikaela warned.

"Trust me, Jazz and I won't let anything happen." Only Meg knew the full weight of that statement. Mikalea snorted.

"I'm not talking about _him_ jumping _you_," the teenager said with a wicked smile.

"Oh, who should be talking?" Meg defended while elbowing the other girl. "And don't you have a boyfriend?"

"I can look, just not touch." By Mikaela's expression, the girl would be doing _a lot_ of 'looking'.

While Meg and Mikaela had been whispering off by themselves, Jazz and Fig had been talking. Sam had joined in on the conversation while eyeing his girlfriend who was eyeing Jazz. Eventually Mikaela was able to control herself (Sam's expression had went from confused to worried which made his girlfriend feel guilty) and they were able to hear the last ends of the conversation.

Apparently since Bumblebee was unwilling to hack into Epps' game, Jazz would go in undercover and destroy the scores. Fig, still feeling the pain of having been slaughtered in the virtual massacre, was willing to help. When Meg heard the plan, she gave a pointed look at Jazz. Once again the girl went off to the side but it was to talk to Jazz instead of Mikaela.

"We're supposed to be leaving soon, Jazz. And how exactly are you going to actually use the controls without giving yourself away?" To emphasize her point, Meg tapped her finger against Jazz's stomach. Instead of feeling washboard abs, and lets face it, she would have _loved _to feel those, her finger instead passed right through the shirt. A small area around her finger fizzled. With her back towards the group, no one noticed except for her and Jazz.

"I can manipulate the hologram so that my fingers lay in perfect alignment with the hologram's fingers. As long as no one actually touches me, I'll be fine. And Lennox knows about the transference and I'll make sure he knows it's me."

"Doesn't that defeat the whole point of you going in there?" Jazz just smiled.

"What can Lennox do without giving me away? And the whole point of me going in there is to mess with their scores…which I'll do."

"You don't even know how to play with a controller." Jazz's smile became noticeably more wicked.

"I may be smaller but I still have the same abilities. Namely hacking into networks." In other words, he was going to cheat. Meg knew it was a lost cause. She sighed and looked away before turning her eyes back to him.

"Please be quick. I really don't want to hit traffic on the way up to Santa Barbara. The 101 is hell during rush hour." Jazz gave a nod to her and then began walking off with Fig who was standing near the door with Sam.

"Wait, what about us?" Mikaela called, asking the question that had been on the tip of Meg's tongue.

"No ninas en los cuartos de hombres," Fig called over his shoulder as he limped out of the door, using his cane heavily. Mikaela looked up at Bumblebee who had remained with the girls.

"This sucks."

* * *

It took approximately forty five minutes for Jazz to decimate the scores. Lennox was the only one of his unit who knew about the transference but Epps and some of the others seemed to have caught on rather fast although none of them said anything. Jazz introducing himself as 'Jasper' was kind of a big clue for the tech sergeant. By the end of the forty five minutes, Lennox looked like he was about to jump right over Fig to get to Jazz and give the Autobot a sucker punch. However the Air Force captain had learned not to mess with the alien robotic warriors so he turned all of his aggression into his avatar. Jazz still pummeled him with Sam and Fig cheering the whole time.

* * *

_**Author's Note**__:__** Jazz's hologram was influenced by Tyson Beckford who is a god. Even my mom who doesn't have the same taste as me in guys thinks that Tyson is amazing. I figured that Jazz would want the best in hologram sexiness so Tyson it was. And if there's some copyright infringement yada yada yada about Tyson's influence…I do not own Tyson Beckford. Now I'm going to sulk over that sad, sad fact.**_


	14. Chapter 13

**_Author's Note: Once again, I'm sorry about the wait. Thank you to the reads and reviews! And Meg's observation about Jazz's alt mode is something that I've noticed as well. It made me rethink what exactly was a Jazz worthy alt mode._**Jazz, _stop _touching the radio," Meg snapped, glaring at her faux passenger. The hand flew back into his lap while a deceptively smooth smile swept over Jazz's features. Meg's eyes flickered from the road to fixate Jazz with a glare before returning to her task of driving. The black tar stretched out in front of them, its twists and turns carved into the high seaside cliffs with the shimmering ocean reaching out to the hazy horizon in the west. For the most part the road was clear except for the occasional driver driving by in their rich weekend convertible. More amusing than watching the flashy cars quickly cruise by them were the mini vans packed with a full blown family; the dad trying to concentrate as he drove while the mom was twisted around in her seat to resolve some quarrel between the bickering kids in the back seat; luggage filled the very back of the van to the point that it was squished against the windows.

* * *

Jazz watched these vehicles pass them with rapt attention, his optics examining them from behind the hologram's eyes. Meg would easily pass them on the four lane highway. Jazz would watch the mini vans disappear behind them in the side mirror with his smile bordering on a smirk. Before she could ask, Jazz explained what was running through his thoughts.

"For some reason those vehicles remind me of our journey here on the _Ark_." Meg spared him a glance, a curious smile on her lips. With the air conditioning still blowing, she rolled her window down and stuck her left arm out so that the crook of her elbow rested on the sill.

"Why is that?"

"The bickerin'," Jazz laughed, his gaze briefly looking into the side mirror even though the van was well out of sight. Bumblebee, who was trailing them out of eyesight, would probably be passing the van soon and thinking along the same lines that Jazz was.

"Between you and Bumblebee?" Meg guessed. Jazz laughed outright.

"Naw, between Ironhide an' Ratchet. You know that sitcom you watched all the time? _Everybody Loves Rayburn?_"

"_Everybody Loves Raymond_," Meg corrected with a smirk. Jazz rolled down his window and made a dismissive gesture with his hand before he stuck it out into the cool salty air the car was gushing through.

"Yeah, that. Well, those two are like Marie an' Frank." Meg let out a carefree laugh.

"So they're like an old married couple?"

"If all old human couples are like those characters, then yeah." For a moment Jazz paused, reminiscing. "You shoulda seen how fragged off Ratchet was when Ironhide blew up that planet."

Meg was speechless as she blatantly stared at Jazz with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

"…a planet? You mean a moon or something…right?" Jazz gently pushed Meg's face so that she was looking at the road again but her eyes kept flickering over to him.

"Nope a full blown planet..ooh bad play on words there."

"A _small_ planet?" Meg ventured hopefully, her awe completely overriding the bad pun.

"Uh, about the size of Pluto," Jazz responded somewhat absentmindedly as he stretched his arm out into the wind, pushing his arm against the force of the rushing air.

"Technically, that's not a planet anymore," the girl said as she rolled her eyes.

"_Tsh_, if you humans started puttin' more thought into explorin' the planets of your solar system rather than categorizin' them, you'd be a lot further with space travel," the Autobot stated in a slightly patronizing kind of way. Meg shot him a glance that showed that she didn't appreciate it but then again she knew that the robot who had an alternate form specifically for space travel was without a doubt ahead of the space travel curve.

"So what's it like out there? In space?" For a moment Jazz hesitated. The Autobots knew that space travel had always been a goal that the humans strived for and despite their primitive spacecraft, they were doing pretty fragging well for themselves. But the truth of it was, was that while space was a frontier with unimaginable beauty, it was also fraught with peril. The loneliness that beings suffered out there was more than enough to push one over the edge…figuratively and literally. Not to mention that if the humans had trouble keeping peace on their own planet, adding other planets' politics would not be the best thing for the young species.

"I've seen a lot of amazin' things but…we were travelin' a _long_ time. That long in space with only four others to keep ya company, and then eventually just three since Bee was lookin' for Sam for four years, it can get pretty lonely," Jazz said with a shrug. He was somber for a moment before smiling.

"But damn it was entertainin' at times. Like when Optimus had to rescue Bumblebee from those giant cavernous worms, when Ironhide annoyed Ratchet to the point that Ratchet knocked out ol' Hide and disabled his cannons, or when I got bored that one time and hacked into the _Ark_'s PA system and played the matin' ritual songs from this primitive planet I came across on a Special Ops mission way back when. I didn't get monitor duty for a while after that one which was an added bonus."

"Wow, if I didn't know any better I would say that all of you are just a bunch of teenagers…especially you," Meg said with a playful glint in her eyes.

"You've spent _how_ long with the twins?" Jazz said, barely fighting back a smirk.

"Ha ha, very funny. Okay, I didn't know that all of you were like _those two_." Jazz recoiled and grimaced.

"If you value your life, I would never repeat that."

"You can't harm us," Meg cooed.

"If you say somethin' like that, we can make an exception."

"Somebody's in denial," Meg practically sang.

Jazz went to go off on a rant but the girl made a fast lane change, sending him against the window. He muttered a low and sarcastic 'thanks'. The girl just smirked and kept her eyes on the road. Suddenly, the radio's volume shot up as it changed stations to a head bursting rock station. The rental car's stereos began shaking and were minutes from blowing out.

"Jazz!" the girl cried out. The culprit raised his hands passively up as if to show his innocence. That façade couldn't be further from the truth and he knew it.

"You said not to touch the radio," Jazz yelled over the sound of the blaring music.

"Well, I meant mentally, technologically or…whatever."

"How can you _touch _mentally or technologically-"

"I don't know!"

Suddenly the music paused a moment as Dane Cook proclaimed "Google that shit" before switching to a bass thrumming rap beat. Revenge was easily found as the girl got off the highway faster than needed and came to a screeching halt at the stop light at the bottom of the off ramp. The seatbelt caught Meg but Jazz wasn't so lucky.

"Should have worn your seatbelt," she smugly chastised, not letting on to the distinct feeling of a bruise coming up across her chest. Jazz glared at her as he pulled himself back into the seat. Meg's eyes went wide as she saw the gaping holes in the faux leather dashboard in front of the passenger's eat where the airbag should have come out from.

"I really hope they got insurance for this thing," the girl mumbled. Jazz narrowed his eyes; his unspoken question of what 'insurance' was clear. Meg couldn't help herself.

"Google that shit."

Jazz ignored the quip as he stared at the damage. All he knew was that he had destroyed something and it didn't matter what planet he was from, he knew that destruction was a bad thing despite what Ironhide says.

"That's…not good," Meg slowly stated as she really looked at the dashboard.

"No shit," Jazz mumbled to himself in an affirmative sigh.

An impatient horn sounded from behind them. Her attention on the road regained, Meg accelerated as she took a left turn. As she drove, she pulled her 'pay as you go' cell phone out of the cup holder and handed it to Jazz.

"Dial 4-1-1 and then hit send," Meg calmly explained before adding, "There's a new law that says I can't talk on a hand-held cell phone while I'm driving so you have to call." Jazz took the cell phone from her and carefully did as he was told, being more careful than necessary as to not cause any more damage. He never thought that being strong would ever prove to be a problem. As a mech his strength had always been his saving grace.

"Who am I calling?"

"Tell the operator that we're in Santa Barbara and we're looking for an Enterprise Rent-a-Car…don't tell her why."

* * *

"I guess we can add this to the _Why the American Government Wants to Dismantle Us and Mash Us Into Tiny Little Pieces to Experiment On _List," Jazz muttered as they walked out of the tiny suite of the strip mall. He and Meg were walking as fast as they could to get past the group of people staring at the damaged sedan that the pair had just turned in as it sat in front of the rental company's suite. Several of the bystanders turned around and watched them go by.

"That's one kinky ass couple," Jazz heard one man mutter to his buddy. "What I wouldn't do to hit up that girl." The Autobot froze in his tracks, his hologram's eyes blazing. He set his jaw and slowly turned around. Meg stood waiting at their next rental car/victim trying to figure out why Jazz was facing away from her. She didn't see the heart freezing glare the Autobot was sending the man as he slowly shook his head, ending with his head slightly tipped to the side. The man's Adam's apple visible bobbed as he gulped and took a step back. With one final glare, Jazz turned back to Meg in time place a smile on his face.

"Come on girl," Jazz said as he placed his hand on Meg's back, beckoning her into the driver's seat. One final glare was sent at the man as Jazz walked around the front of the car and got into the passenger's seat.

Meg pulled out of the parking space and drove out of the lot. Several minutes passed as they drove on to the road.

"You know, it's not going to make a good impression when the public finds out about you guys if you keep trying to shoot lasers out of your eyes every single time someone makes a stupid comment." Jazz scoffed.

"There's never been a mech capable of shooting lasers out of his optics." It took several long quiet moments to realize that Jazz was communicating with someone over his internal communications.

"What are you doing?" Meg asked incredulously.

"Trying to get Ratchet to upgrade my optics for a laser arsenal. Let's see if those horny squishies want to make any remarks now." Meg sputtered, trying to figure out if he was serious or not.

"You can't harm humans, remember?"

"They won't know that," Jazz said as he looked at Meg with his head tipped while he flashed a crooked smile.

* * *

The house was quaint, resembling a typical home built in the 60's rather than the modern towering behemoths on either side of it. The faded white paint was chipping away in some places and several of the potted plants lining the flagstone path had no hopes of resurrection. Meg pulled up to the house and busied herself with getting her army issued duffel bag from the backseat while Jazz slowly pulled himself out of the car, focus riveted on the house in front of him.

By the time Meg got her meager borrowed belongings from the car, she stood watching Jazz with a bemused expression. Slowly, he walked the pathway, his eyes cast down at the flagstones framed with green, spongy moss. When he saw the purpose of the stones and that he could actually walked on the moss without destroying the minute vegetation, his attention focus one the myriad of various ceramic pots brimming with mostly green plants. Kneeling down beside a fern, he examined it and gently touched the water-filled tube that automatically watered the plant.

Looking at the house, Jazz's optics danced to the wind chimes and other decorations hanging from the eaves. A soft sea breeze blew by and demonstrated the gentle music of the chimes and how the other decorations would spin, spiral, and dance.

"The neighborhood kids know my grandma as the 'gypsy lady' because her house reminds them of the gypsies in movies," Meg said from behind.

"The house is certainly…eccentric," Jazz murmured.

"And the adults say that about Grams and Gramps," Meg laughed.

In truth, Jazz had never seen anything like the tiny little beach house. Every civilization he had ever visited had either been far more primitive or far more advanced than the humans. His own civilization was so centered around order and consistency that he knew of no one who would have created something like the house. The whole thing was so jumbled yet there was a hint of an order to it. Organized chaos, the humans called it. Before he hadn't understood the term but now he not only understood it…he loved it.

Meg lightly touched him at the elbow, her fingertips passing through the hologram to the warm metal below. Jazz looked at the smiling girl slightly behind him and she nodded for him to move forward.

Arriving at the door, Jazz looked up at the wrinkled pepper tree that offered a vast amount of shade while Meg opened a well hidden panel beside the door to reveal the spare key inside. Unlocking the door and then shoving it open, she walked right in to dump her load on the ancient easy chair while Jazz remained at the door examining the large oval of glass that had a porpoising dolphin etched into it.

"What's that?" Jazz asked as he came inside and pointed to the glass etching behind him.

"A dolphin," Meg explained while she opened the bag. "It's a sea mammal. You might see some while we're here."

Jazz cast one last glance at the etched glass before walking through the cozy living room/dining room combo to the large French doors on the other side. He pulled away the gossamer curtain to peek out at the overcast beach outside. Meg came up from behind him and unlocked the double French doors to pull them open. Both Meg and Jazz walked out on to the vast deck to see the beach as the ocean lapped up on to the shifting sand fifty yards from the house. Jazz crossed his arms over his chest and seemed content to stand at the top of the short staircase, staring at the enormous ocean.

Sensing that it was best to let Jazz ponder to himself, Meg lingered on the deck to use the supplies stored in a wooden box to light up the fire pit in the center of the deck. For a moment she sat on the benches built into the deck railing, making sure that Jazz would be okay. She had no idea what would happen if the sand got into Jazz's joints or if all of the salt in the air would affect him. Would he rust in the short time they were there? Would she have to carry around some oil to lubricate him whenever he froze up like Dorothy in the _Wizard of Oz_. That idea froze _her_ in place, stopping it from taking her teenaged mind to places she didn't want to go.

Finally going back inside, Meg dragged her duffel to the guest bedroom and threw it on to the bed. There were few things in the actual bag since it was a hodge-podge of borrowed items and very few items were brand new. Sometime during Jazz's convalescence, Mikaela had gone to the mall and had been kind enough to buy Meg some clothes. It had put the other teenaged girl in a whole new light for Meg, especially since Mikaela had no idea about the trip to Santa Barbara.

With her meager belongings in their respective places, Meg drifted out of the room and into the main room. She had been planning on going into the kitchen to see if she needed to make a trip to the grocery store but she stopped short when she saw Jazz sprawled out on the coach. Lowering herself down so that she was sitting on her ankles, Meg worriedly examined Jazz. His hologram was no longer in place and his optics were dim. If it wasn't for the soft whir beneath his armor, she would have guessed he was dead. The only thing she could think of was that he was…sleeping.

At first she wasn't going to wake him up but then if she was wrong about the sleeping thing than she would have to answer to the other Autobots, mainly Ratchet, and that was not something she wanted to do.

"Jazz," she whispered as she nudged him. She had no idea how to 'wake up' an Autobot and even less of an idea on whether or not he would freak out once he did wake up. Extending her index finger, she slowly moved it forward and poked him on the arm. The hand that belonged to that metallic arm snapped out, grabbed Meg around the waist and pulled her down onto the couch. The girl found herself laying on her back with Jazz practically on top of her.

"Uh, Jazz?" The only response was a static filled response. "Jazz, stop groping me."

"Sleepin'," was all that she was able to discern from the static. Meg gave up and began working herself out from under him. That is until she saw Jazz's optics momentarily flicker on-line. When he saw that she noticed his optics immediately shuttered back closed.

"Jazz, I really have stuff to do."

"Sleepin'. Comfy," came the grumbled static. Meg sighed and patted the feigning sleeper's head which rested on her chest.

"That's nice, now let me up." No longer concerned that he was okay, Meg squirmed her way out from under the mech. She sat up beside him but had a bit of hesitancy about getting up. He was sleeping and she wasn't exactly sure if that was normal for him.

"Are you okay?" Turning on his back so that he could see her better, his optics brightened a bit.

"The hologram takes a lot outta me an' I don't have a lotta energy reserves in this form." Meg pursed her lips and squeezed one of the support structures that made up Jazz's arm.

"Let me know if you want anything, okay?" The only response she got was a nod as he began shutting his systems to hibernate. With the knowledge that Jazz was indeed going to survive, Meg pulled herself from the couch. Making her way to the kitchen, Meg wondered if Jazz was capable of smelling the musty old people scent on the ancient sofa.

* * *

Jazz groaned as he pulled himself from his precarious position on the couch. The house was strangely quiet and somewhat darker. He didn't need to look at the green electronic time display on the primitive electronics equipment sitting beneath the equally ancient television set. He hung his cranium as he tried to get his bearings. It would take a while to get used to this body and by that time he would be returning to his upgraded shell. Some things just sucked. Jazz was used to having to constantly adapt but even this was starting to try him.

Pulling himself up from his face plant on the sofa, his attention focused on Meg. It took a moment for his systems to become reacquainted since he had off-lined his olfactory senses. One could only take so much of that disgusting scent that plagued that sofa. Jazz couldn't sense Meg nearby and the basic scanners that Ratchet had mercifully bestowed upon him couldn't find her within the house. While he knew that he would have instantly known if any Decepticons had been nearby, he was curious to know where she had gotten off to. After all, he still considered himself her protector; size didn't matter as long as the job was done. If Jazz had wanted to piss Meg off he would have used the term 'babysitter' but he would rather not return to Ratchet with even more damages.

Wandering out to the deck, Jazz minutely noticed the burning coals in the fire pit as he walked past. A quick scan told him that there were no humans around so he didn't even bother activating his hologram. It would only drain more energy and with no energon close by and the marine layer hiding the sun's energetic light, the Autobot really didn't feel like wasting his energy on something so unnecessary. Besides, he really didn't like the idea of him having to take 'naps'.

It didn't take long to find Meg. In fact, as soon as Jazz walked out of the deck's gate, he could see her sitting directly in front of the house. He stood back, standing on the concrete sprinkled with sand. Crossing his arms, he looked at the girl's back, her hair dancing in the sea breeze.

Meg sat in the warm sand as it began cooling off while the sun sank into the ocean. She stared out into the ocean without really seeing it, too engulfed into her thoughts to see the beauty in front of her. Her forearms were resting on her knees, her hands dangling while she tossed the cheap cell phone up and down absentmindedly. The waves chased after her and then hastily retreated to build up to resume the chase again.

Jazz quietly walked up behind her, immediately sensing that something was going on. She didn't respond as he squatted beside her, placing his five fingered hand on her back. Knowing how touch-oriented that humans were, he gently rubbed her back as he peered at her emotionless face. His cyan optics darted from her face to the tossing phone.

"What's up girlie?" he asked.

Meg stopped tossing the phone and looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Jazz was completely taken aback by her change in moods. She had seemed perfectly fine on the ride up the coast albeit a little testy… Mentally Jazz smacked himself. He should have known by that tiny clue that something was up.

"I..I should really call my mom." Jazz frowned and gently squeezed her far shoulder, bidding her to continue. "I don't know what to say. I haven't talked to her since before the...attack. What do I say? Hey Mom, I miss you and guess what? I'm not dead, I didn't run away but I'm in a place far away and I can't tell you where, oh, and on top of it, I'm with a guy who you've never met and never will." There was a long pause and her head fell forward so far that her chin almost touched her chest. "I should have called her a long time ago but I was just too…scared. I can't do it."

The Autobot swiveled, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the sand grating in the cracks between his armor, and brought himself so that he sat behind Meg. He pressed his chest against her back with his legs on either side of her. Gently he pried the cell phone from her pliable hand and sorted through his memory banks to find her home phone number. After dialing the phone, he held it up to Meg's ear. Ever so slowly, she replaced his metal hand and held up the phone to her own ear. As the other line rang, Jazz rested his chin on Meg's shoulder, opposite of the arm holding the phone up.

It seemed like there were five minutes in between each minute long ring. The girl was somewhere in between hyperventilating and not being able to breathe all together. After a five and a quarter rings, someone picked up.

"Hello?" answered the misplaced voice. Meg knew the voice but coldn't understand why Grady was answering htephone and wy he sonded like a grandfather rather han a kid her own age.

"Grady?" There was a long pause as Meg heard something scurry in the background. A loud bang was fallowed by a great bout of incoherent cursing.

"Meg?' Grady finally replied with a heart wrenching amount of desperate hope

"Yeah…what are you doing at my house? Where's Mom?"

"We, uh…me and Randy…we came to help around…the ranch."

"Oh," Meg whispered as a flood f guil washed over her. If it was possible, she slumped even more.

"I really need to talk to Mom-", before she could finish the statement, the phone had been passed over to Jeanne who apparently had been standing beside Grady the whole time.

"Are you okay?!" was the immediate question.

"I'm safe Mom. Are you okay?"

"Besides worrying myself to and early grave over you?" meg visibly winced and Jazz, easily able to hear the conversation, gave her an encouraging hug.

"Yeah, besides that."

Jeanne gave a resigned sight as she spoke.

"I'm getting through, hour by hour. The boys have been a huge help." At this point Meg was more alarme than ever before. There was no way a grieving mother could be this calm unless she was hopped up on a serious amount of meds.

"Honey, I need to be honest with you because I know you're beating yourself up about it and you know you can never keep a secret from me." Meg felt Jazz stiffen behin her and she would have turned to look at him if she wasn't striang so hard to hear.

"I know what…who…your car is" Meg's jaw dropped and Jazz groaned.

"I can't believe they told you," the teenaged girl practically shrieked.

"We kept our moths shut!" Randy yelled, having heard the exclamation.

"Marguerite, don't get that tone with me," Jeanne demanded as she shifted into her mom-mode. "I would have fully expected them to tell me what happened at the store." Jazz shifted and quietly muttered in a way to ensure that only Meg could hear.

"Something's not adding up." It took Mg a few moments to realize he was right. Meg voiced what she was thinking aloud, hoping that if she just spoke the thoughts that maybe her hammering heart wouldn't explode since it was really feeling like it was about to.

"If they didn't tell you…" The girl knew there would be complications from there being so many witnesses but she was hoping that denial would keep those problems at bay.

"Meg, I left you a note telling you that I would go grocery shopping because I needed you to run by the post office to pick up a package Grams had sent us. Obviously you didn't see the note."

So Jeanne had been there. She saw the whole attack and watched helplessly as Meg teetered on the verge of being killed. It was why Grady and Randy had kept her from going into the store, keeping her from seeing her most likely shocked mom.

"I'm surprised about the truth of the car but I knew something was going on. With Andrew 'winning' the car and giving it to _you_, I knew something was up. That boy hated sharing his things with you and he'd _never_ share a sports car like that."

Jazz came dangerously close to gloating but the mech proved that he did in fact have some common sense by keeping his mouth shut. It also had to do with him debating if it would be possible to admit the woman on to his Special Ops team. Assuming that enough qualified Autobots showed up on Earth to make up a team. Either way, the woman was certainly qualified. Meg, on the other hand, couldn't get over her shock and awe enough to think very fast.

"Does Dad know?"

"No. Those agents who talked with everyone at the market. When they talked with me I asked that your dad remain in the dark. He wouldn't want to leave his boys and he's still in the middle of tracking another group of insurgents."

"Ignorance is bliss," Meg muttered as she rubbed her eyes. She hated the idea of lying to her father and she knew that it was the same for her mom but then again this wasn't _exactly_ lying.

Wearily, Meg nodded her head and ran her hand over the side of her face.

"I'm sorry Mom…about all of this. I was just trying to do what was right. I just forgot to do what was right by you."

"Marguerite, I saw those robots fight to save us and how that one nearly died saving you. You _did_ do right…by all of us." Meg couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could she be so lucky that her mom was actually _okay_ with all that had happened? The only thing Meg could think of was that sometimes things are so…_big_ that there's no way to react normally. There certainly was nothing normal about what had been going on in the girl's life ever since the first time she saw Jazz. Was this how Sam's parents reacted when they found out about Bumblebee?

"I love you Mommy," Meg whispered as tears started blurring her vision. Sniffling on the other end of the line told Meg that her mom wasn't even bothering holding back the tears.

"I love you too, baby girl. I'm so proud of you and I know everyone else is too."

"Bye Mama. And…thank you for being so…cool about this." Jeanne started laughing outright.

"Honey, I've had a lot of time to think about things and a lot of things to think about. It took me a while to realize that wherever you are, you want to be there, you have the ultimate bodyguards looking after you, and most importantly this robot friend of yours was there for you when your father and I wasn't after Andrew…passed. I'm not happy that you aren't here but, frankly, there isn't much that I can do about it."

There was no way that Meg could reply. All she could do was mutter how much she loved her mom. Finally Jazz gently took the phone from Meg's hand.

"Hello Ma'am. I'm friends with Meg…My name is Jazz…Yes, it is a unique name…You are very perceptive. I guess I am as unique as my name…I promise that I'll take care of Meg." As Meg listened to Jazz talking, she leaned into him and closed her eyes as she listened to his voice and the waves. Jazz continued reassuring that Meg was safe and there were no immediate threats. He also made sure that Jeanne knew that no, there wasn't any kinky sex going on either but he didn't put it that bluntly. Jazz was quiet for a stretch of time as he listened and when he spoke again, it was in a deep voice that sent shivers down Meg's spine. It was the voice of who, despite his relatively young age, was a veteran warrior and had more experience with battles, life, and death than a citizen could ever understand.

"If anyone comes after Meg, they _will _die or they will have to tear my spark from my body to get to her. I hold that promise as high as my oath as an Autobot." There was no doubting the words that Jazz spoke.

The conversation didn't last much longer since Jeanne couldn't have asked more in order to be sure that her daughter was safe besides a blood oath and the only thing stopping Jazz was the tiny fact that the Autobot didn't exactly have blood. An energon oath instead perhaps?

Meg was interrupted from her thoughts when Jazz handed the phone over to her. Taking it from him, the girl said good-bye to her mom and promised to call her the next day. Meg ended the call with a deep sigh. She closed her eyes and tossed the phone to the side.

"Well, you're still alive," Jazz smiled. Meg gave a cynic's laugh that sounded more like a cough.

"Barely."

Biting her lip, Meg twisted around to look at Jazz as he kept his arms wrapped around her waist. He looked down at her and didn't seem nearly as drained as she herself felt. When Meg didn't say anything right away as she looked at him, Jazz comically cocked an optic ridge. The girl couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips at such a human expression. Turning around to look back at the ocean, she leaned comfortably against Jazz.

"You know, I think you're my best friend."

"You think?" Jazz laughed while Meg rolled her eyes.

"Well, I know. I just didn't want you to laugh at me."

"Naw I would never laugh at my best friend like that," the mech whispered as he gave a light hug to the girl.

"I love you Jazz."

"I love you too girl," he said before he kissed her temple. He knew that it held no emotional relevance for him, but it held significance for Meg so it held significance for him.

* * *

Jazz was sitting on the deck, staring into firepit as the flames danced around. The kids playing ultimate Frisbee on the beach had no idea that the twenty-something year old leaning forward with his elbows on his knees was actually a hologram disguising a robot. Meg came out with her purse still clutched under her arm and rolled up newspaper in her hand. The girl walked up to him and wiggled her finger through the bill of Jazz's baseball cap that was casting his face in shadows. Meg never ceased to be amazed by how much detail Jazz put into his holograms. Of course that habit for details probably saved the saboteur's life more than once.

Ringing his hands, Jazz glanced up at Meg and smiled before leaning back.

"Have fun?" he asked in his deep baritone voice. Meg just shrugged in response and dumped herself next to him.

"A lot less eventful than the last time I was at the grocery store." Jazz laughed and shook his head.

"You know, ya kinda sound disappointed that nothin' blew up." Meg gave him a snide look. Tossing her purse on the built-in bench, she sat down beside Jazz and handed him the rolled up paper. With a somewhat cautious glance he took it from her and unrolled it. The _Autotrader_ stared back up at him.

"What's with this?" he asked as he thumbed through it, the pages disappearing into his holographic skin. Meg shrugged again, not sure how Jazz was going to take what she was about to say.

"Well, I've seen a few Pontiac Solstices over the past couple of days since we've been here and…I kinda noticed something."

"What? That my alt mode is seriously kick ass?" he asked without looking up.

"Um, not quite." The look Jazz gave her was calculating and extremely on guard.

"What did ya notice?"

"That only middle aged women and old people drive them," Meg explained so quickly that her words nearly ran together. Jazz's face and body completely deflated and Meg immediately felt worse but at the same time she knew that he would want to know. "So I brought this home and maybe you can find something that convalescents don't drive."

"How sweet of you."

"As always." Jazz gave a non-affirmative grunt.

Thumbing through the pages, he started looking at the different designs to find out something that called to him. Meg watched him as he searched and was surprisingly quiet for a while until she pointed at a Mercedes-Benz C-Class. Jazz frowned and shook his head.

"Nice design but I want sports car, not luxury. More speed capabilities." Soon Jazz became so absorbed that Meg went inside to put her purse away. When she came back out she barely saw Jazz fold one a corner of a page before closing the magazine.

"So what did you choose?" Meg asked. Jazz gave her a smirk and shook his head. Meg narrowed her eyes in response. The game was on.

Meg was the first one to move, just as Jazz knew she would. As she dove to grab the magazine from his hands, the hologram-clad mech dodged out of the way and managed to get to the opposite side of the firepit. For a moment they were still as they stared at each other but then Jazz bolted towards the house. Meg dashed to intercept him but he had pulled the door open and was already inside.

There were no rules, no inhibitions, as the pair raced around the living room, trying to not destroy anything but trying even harder to win. It wasn't until Jazz tripped over the vacuum cleaner that he had been using earlier to help clean the place up that Meg was miraculously able to grab the magazine. She didn't have a chance to look at the dog-eared page since Jazz was already in fast pursuit after her. At first she tried to use the dining table to keep him at bay. It was working out well enough until Jazz used one of the chairs that hadn't been pushed in to jump over the table to land on Meg's side. Her thoughts of 'Oh shit' were clearly written all over her face.

Turning around as fast as she could, Meg gripped the rolled up magazine as tightly while Jazz was quickly closing the distance. He was right behind her and by the time she reached the end of the table, he passed her and cut off her escape route to the rest of the house. She was forced not only by Jazz but also by her momentum into the kitchen. But the girl was not going to give up that quickly. She may have been cornered but there was an advantage to the old-fashioned view of the kitchen being the woman's place.

Meg grabbed the retractable hose on the sink and swung it around so that it faced Jazz. She kept the hand holding the magazine at the ready to turn the water on while her other hand clutched the hose's lever down so that the moment that the pressure was on, the hose would be belching the water right at Jazz. The Autobot came to a skidding stop the moment he saw Meg's weapon trained on him. He had no idea what it was but by the way she was holding it and the smug look on her face, it had to be effective.

"Aw, come on girl. No need to get desperate here." The futile attempt at bargaining fell on deaf ears. Victory was within Meg's grasp and she wasn't about to slip up.

"Put your hands above your head where I can see them and then slowly back out of the kitchen."

Gradually Jazz raised his hands and took very tentative backward steps. Meg knew better than to believe that she had won that easily but she still didn't see it coming when Jazz's hand whipped down when he passed the counter beside the kitchen's threshold and flung the bag of flour right at her. By pure instinct Meg struck out at the bag and it would have ended harmlessly except the last person who had used it (that last person being Meg) didn't close it properly and a cloud of white powder filled the air.

Eventually the air cleared enough and Meg was left standing still holding her weapon and hostage looking as if a marshmallow had taken a giant dump on her. Jazz recorded her priceless expression of shock as her eyelids flickered, revealing her seemingly dark eyes which contrasted with her white…everything. Meg stood there rigidly, not even bothering to look around her at the impromptu winter that had exploded in the kitchen.

"You jackass!" the girl soundly cried, her battle cry accented with a tomato from the fruit basket beside the sink.

It was then that the infamous Food War of 2008 began. Food and anything that wouldn't leave a bruise or dent was soon flying through the wintery kitchen. Jazz had quickly dropped his hologram to conserve energy as he dodged and fired whatever weapon happened to come to hand. The brown paper grocery bags were quickly torn apart in search of projectiles but it was Meg who was able to make the biggest advantage by reaching the refrigerator. However, that advantage had been made with a price since she had left the remnants of the grocery bags unguarded. Those sacrifices were quickly put to use by Jazz as he delivered a nasty onslaught against the girl, forcing her to retreat from her main weapon.

There was much splattering of food, yelps of quick, smarting pain, and clanging of cabinet doors as the opponents became desperate for cover or ammunition. It didn't take long before metal and skin looked as if a box of edible crayons threw up on them. When all of the food was smeared in the floor, cupboards, furniture, appliances, and ceiling, the battle finally simmered to a stop.

Huffing and puffing, Meg crawled out from behind the kitchen's island and hesitantly approached Jazz as he stood beside the sink where Meg had abandoned the _Autotrader_. All that was left was a multi-colored mashy substance that had a vague resemblance to cars on the front. Jazz lifted it up between two fingers, letting it drip on to the floor. He grimaced and then tossed it into the sink.

Meg started to break down into laughter at the irony of the situation and how neither of them had won. Well, perhaps Jazz since Meg would never know what alternate mode he had chosen but she wasn't about to admit that. Still laughing, she pulled herself up onto the countertop beside the sink.

"I'm never going to get clean," Jazz muttered as he flicked a wad of butter off of his hand. Meg quickly solved his problem by dousing him with water from the sink's hose.

Jazz stood completely still as water and food dripped off him, staring at Meg with a blank expression. He didn't move until he spit a stream of water from his mouth, electricity crackling from his vocal capacitors.

"Thanks."

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**And no, I don't even know what his new alt mode will be. Serious research is in progress as we speak with the choices narrowing down. What will it be? Only DaJam knows.


End file.
